Hitomi: A Convent Girl at the Palace
by Lightish Red
Summary: Lady Laurel of Fury's Valley, a quiet girl from the convent, arrives at the palace at the end of the Scanran War for the winter social season. What will happen as she makes new friends and gets involved in this courtly world of betrothals and betrayals?
1. Arrival at the Palace

_Hitomi: From the Convent to the Palace_

**Arrival at the Palace**

The caravan of coaches pulled to a stop at one of the great palace gates. After a moment's pause, they jerked forward again, causing the girls they contained to catch themselves against the motion. In the second of the four carriages, three of the four girls had pushed back the curtains and leaned forward in their seats to look out the glass windows. The fourth closed the book in her lap, finally giving her mind up to the chatter of the others.

"This is terribly exciting!" squealed one.

"Did you see that handsome guard that waved us through? Those uniforms are awfully dashing!"

"I've always thought I'd marry a military—a young knight or captain or such," a small, dull-brown haired girl said idly, hazel-grey eyes looking out languidly. "That's probably because I've grown up with my father as a commander and had so many warriors about home when I was a child."

"Oh, Roxanna, you're positively wicked," replied the girl sitting across from her. This came from a tall girl in a pale green traveling dress. It showed off her hazel eyes framed by long lashes. These eyes danced as she giggled. "It doesn't matter to me what I get as long as he's handsome and ready to marry quickly."

Roxanna and the other excited girl joined in the silly laughter, while the book girl could only smile thinly. With one finger she lifted back the curtain on her side to peek out. They were going up the incline from the outer palace gates toward the castle itself. Her crystal blue eyes took in the soldiers of the practice courts as they passed; large groups of men were sparring and socializing under the early afternoon sun. It was late autumn and plenty cool for the time of day, but the coach full of four girls in warm travel gowns was rather stuffy in comparison. Luckily, that was soon to end.

Blue-eyes dropped the curtain when the coach entered the inner gates; she could tell that they were about to stop and unload. She lifted the side of her skirt inconspicuously to tuck her book into its secret pocket. The Daughters had told her repeatedly that reading in a moving carriage would make her unwell, but the girl had neither believed them nor experienced these ill effects. Nonetheless, she decided to remain discreet about her disobedience as to not hurt someone's feelings with a confrontation. As she heard the head driver call for a halt, she smoothed the fabric of her rich brown dress over her lap and put her hands up to do the same to her dark brown hair that was pulled back in a simple braid.

The other girls were smiling and chattering as usual. Blue-eyes had nothing against them; she would even say that they were her friends, or as close to friends as she had in her world of convent girls. Sometimes they just talked too much for her taste.

Suddenly, the coach door was opened by a liveried palace servant, and blue-eyes held back to let the others step out before her.

First, Roxanna of Courage's Column (referring to a monument on her fief commemorating some long ago Tortallan victory there) was a petite girl from the southeast who could quickly have plenty of charm or a harsh temper whenever she required either. Her family boasted a long line of military heroes, and it was well known that her commander father would probably handpick one of his favorites as her betrothed. But since she was the third daughter, her husband probably would not be too important. She was attractive when she needed to be, but no beauty by anyone's standards.

Next to step down was Alisonne, the tall girl with the longest and straightest strawberry-blonde hair anyone had seen at the convent. She was thin and willowy and towered over Roxanna, her most recent best friend. She was from Davensy to the east of Corus. Her family had a small fief in the mountains and produced some of the finest wines of the country. Her younger brother was currently a squire, and as the only daughter of her family, it was thought she could make a good match. Her long eyelashes and lightish hair were her best features since she had too many freckles across her nose for current fashion's taste for flawless white skin.

Blue-eyes gestured to Amelie of Cobbin's Cove to exit before her, and the dark-haired beauty smiled sweetly in thanks before moving. Her skin was naturally tanned due to her Copper Island mother. Her father, when he had traveled there with a Tortallan embassy, had impulsively married a native and taken her home with him, causing quite a scandal in their time. Now, with their son a successful young knight and their daughters growing up beautiful, no one minded as much. Amelie, with her sweet temper, delicate smallness, and exotic looks, did not even know how lovely she was. Maybe that would help her make a much desired and sighed-over 'love-match.'

They were all going to find out their prospects soon enough, or so thought the blue eyed girl as she crawled out of the carriage last. Reaching a foot down for the step, she slipped, and the servant caught her arm to save her from a fall. Feeling a blush coming on, she murmured thanks to the boy without meeting his eye and prayed that nobody else saw her clumsiness.

It seemed that she was safe, since the other ten girls fresh from the convent had grouped together to talk—sharing what they had gossiped about in their respective coaches, what they had seen driving through Corus and the palace grounds, who they hoped to meet, and even who they hoped to marry. The two Daughters who had escorted the girls from the convent, an almost four days' journey, were trying to establish order. Blue-eyes slipped over quietly to join the little mob. One of the Daughters, somewhere near the age of the sixteen-year-old girls' mothers, explained what was to be done.

"There is a wing of the palace with suites for the young ladies at court. Each is for two girls, and I trust you can match yourselves up without my assistance…" There was a sudden buzz in the courtyard accompanied by a ripple of movement as eleven convent girls tried to grab their preferred roommates before someone else did. Inevitably, blue-eyes was the one left out, but a single room did not seem half-bad to her.

The girls were instructed to follow the other, younger Daughter into the palace interior. She would lead them to their rooms where their luggage would be delivered promptly. Blue-eyes took her place at the end of the line, behind the pairs walking arm in arm in the girlish fashion.

"Laurel," called the elder Daughter evenly.

The blue eyed girl turned around and curtsied. "Yes, Daughter."

"As the odd one out, you have a special assignment. I was hoping it would work out this way… Follow me," she instructed.

Laurel folded her hands before her and fell into step just behind and to the right of the woman, paying great attention. Her curiosity was piqued by the phrase 'a special assignment.'

"As you were among the last batch of girls for this season, and the wing is now full, you will be living in a slightly different part of the palace." Laurel nodded, and her mind partially focused on memorizing the path they walked by taking note of the paintings and tapestries they passed.

"I'm sure you know that a Yamani delegation came a few years back with Princess Shinkonami. Well, in order to encourage more ties between the countries, the Yamani Emperor has ordered some noble families to send their daughters to Tortall to marry our boys. You did take private language lessons, did you not?"

It took Laurel a moment to realize that she had been asked a question, so even was the woman's voice in the transition from explanation to interrogation. "Yes, Daughter. I am fluent in Tyran, and I have been studying Yamani for four years," she volunteered.

"Good, good," was the reply. They reached the end of a great hall to some tall doors that were propped open. Stepping across this threshold was like entering another palace, a Yamani palace to be exact. The hall was decorated with silk hangings and Yamani ink paintings of the islands' famed mountains or flowers or birds. There was not a Tortallan battle scene to be found—it was rather refreshing to be surrounded by natural images.

As Laurel took this all in, the Daughter had knocked on the first door to the right, and a Yamani matron in a traditional kimono opened the door and glided out to them, offering a Yamani bow which they returned with Tortallan curtseys. "Welcome both of you," she said in heavily accented but correct Common. "I am Lady Jin. We have been expecting you. We have had three new Island ladies arrive just yesterday. If you will excuse us Daughter, I think I can show Lady Laurel to her chamber."

Curtseying in acquiescence to the Yamani, the Daughter turned to the quiet blue eyed girl. "You will be well looked after here, and these ladies will do most things with our convent girls at the beginning, so you will still be with the others. I hope that this will help with that burning curiosity of yours, Laurel." The old woman looked down at her fondly, her eyes crinkling in amusement. She did not usually work with the girls at the convent on a day to day basis, but she had heard of the case of this particular one. The Mother of their convent believed in encouraging interest, so Laurel had been supplied with a few extra lessons to occupy her. This Daughter usually arranged the deliveries of food and supplies to the convent, and another one of her tasks in recent years had been to find books to supplement the blue eyed girl's education. She made sure to add, "The palace library is much larger than the convent's as well. I will see you at the introduction banquet tonight." The older woman excused herself and left the Tortallan girl with the Yamani.

With the traditional blank face of the Yamanis, Lady Jin met Laurel's eyes. "I will take you to the ladies now, and you may meet your roommate." The girl nodded and followed her, her nervousness at odds with an interesting feeling of anticipation; here she was already one of the new girls at the palace, and it seemed that she would also be the Tortallan lady amongst Yamanis. She always wanted to do something different, and here was a perfect chance to learn of an exotic culture and use those endless afternoons of language classes she had been selected to take at the convent. Her own mini-adventure, like those she read about in her books.

The Yamani stopped at a wooden door with plaques that read 'Laurel of Fury Valley' and below that, 'Mitsuko…' She did not get a chance to see the rest because the door opened to a dark-eyed Yamani in a red kimono embroidered with yellow flowers. It was very bright to Tortallan eyes, somewhat like her name, _Mitsuko_, meaning 'child of light.' "Welcome, Lady Laurel of Fury Valley. I am to be living with you here," she said.

Immediately, Laurel considered her aptly named, for despite the Yamani's carefully blank face, her very presence seemed to light up the room and melt away a number of doubts the Tortallan had been feeling about making friends. "_Greetings to you Lady Mitsuko. I am honored to be your roommate_," the girl replied in Yamani with an eastern curtsey in stark contrast to her choice of language. The amusement of the two foreigners crackled in the air. Lauren was surprised; she had read that their culture was strict about showing no emotion, yet she could still make out everything they felt. Maybe it was because she made a point of rarely showing emotion as well. Maybe she was better able to recognize it in others.

"_Well, if you truly speak our language, then I think you will have no problems_," said Lady Jin. She continued in Common, "You must be ready at seven bells for the informal banquet with all of the new ladies where you will meet some women of the court. Your things are already in there." The three bowed and curtseyed their goodbyes, and Mitsuko let Laurel into their room.

Sure enough, there were two trunks at the foot of her bed to the near, right-side corner of the room. Next to it was a small dresser with carved, clawed feet and with a mirror hanging on the wall above it. There was also a tall armoire for her dresses and a set of shelves beside that. A matching arrangement was in the far right-hand corner, but it had been altered with multiple, subtle Yamani touches. Fans and little cat statues decorated those shelves.

To the left of the door was a fireplace with only some glowing embers left. Before it was arranged a low table and four cushions. A jade green Yamani tea set was laid out on a tray. Beyond that was a Yamani painted screen that hid a door that Laurel assumed led to the privy.

Her surroundings now observed, the blue eyed girl stepped over to her trunks. The first she opened contained clothes. Laurel moved immediately to the second, lifting the lid to reveal rows and rows of books. She grabbed a stack and moved toward her shelves.

Mitsuko had moved around the room to perch on the edge of her bed. She pulled out a red fan and hid her face, though not her widened eyes. "_Then, _half _of your belongings are books?_" she asked. Books were expensive, and the amount of volumes in that trunk probably outnumbered that of many nobles' personal libraries.

"_I like to read_," Laurel replied absentmindedly in Yamani as she returned for another handful. "_And I spend all of my money on these instead of baubles or dresses_."

A soft knock on the door stopped the conversation there for the moment, as Mitsuko rose to answer it. Low tones of Yamani were exchanged in the doorway as the Tortallan girl continues to unpack her books. As she carried the last stack over and placed the texts on the bottom shelf, the door shut and Laurel turned to meet the arrival.

This Yamani was shorter that Mitsuko and a little wider. She had an intelligent face with almost a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. Laurel stepped forward and curtseyed. "_Greetings_—"

"_So it is true you speak Yamani, Hitomi_," the new girl announced. "_I am Kaida_."

_Kaida._ That meant 'little dragon,' and Kaida was shaping up to be something of the sort—a little fiery. But _Hitomi_? Laurel thought. That was 'blue eyes.' She voiced as much.

Kaida replied in gentle Common, "Laurel is too hard to match in Yamani for we do not have such a flower in the Islands. _We shall call you Hitomi when we speak Yamani_. Now what are all these books for?"

The Yamani ladies glided over to the bookshelf, and Laurel began to explain her collection to her new friends.


	2. Building Connections

_Author's Note_: This story takes place a few years after POTS, when the war is officially over and the north is being demilitarized. Fresh, sixteen-year-old convent and Yamani girls are sent to Corus to find their husbands as the winter social season begins.

This story has a very definite plot, and each chapter will only be posted if it is of good length and quality. I can't give you specific dates, but expect frequent posts throughout the summer.

_Italicized_ speech is meant to note that Yamani being used.

**Building Connections**

At the seventh bell, Laurel was fully unpacked, dressed in a dark purple dress with long sleeves and a wide neck, and well acquainted with two of the three Yamani ladies she was to spend time with in the royal palace of Tortall. A soft knock at the door meant that Lady Jin was ready to walk down with them to one of the smaller ballrooms for their dinner.

Laurel paused a moment to check herself in the mirror one last time. Her medium length dark brown hair had been half pulled up and pinned in a loose nest on the back of her head. A comb decorated with an amethyst and pearls had been tucked into it. Kaida had insisted on lining her eyes with dark kohl, but that was all the face paint the Tortallan would permit. Laurel pinched each of her cheeks lightly to bring a faint pink color to her pale cream skin and bit down on her lower lip to make it a bit fuller with blood. She absentmindedly drew a line down the faint scar that traced the side of her nose down the shadow of her upper lip to her chin where the jagged end could be seen if the light hit it just right. Realizing what she had been doing, the blue eyed girl dropped her hand and rose from her chair before her vanity.

"Mitsuko," she called to her roommate as she turned. The Yamani was standing across the room watching her and inclined her head at the word.

"Let us not keep them waiting," Mitsuko replied softly. The Yamani took a moment to tie the fan that she had been holding to her side, and then she followed the girl out the door.

Laurel was making her introductions to Sakura, Kaida's roommate in the palace and, as it turned out, cousin. This girl was a year older than the other two Yamanis, and although as lovely as her name 'cherry blossom,' she seemed a little standoffish toward the Tortallan girl, despite Laurel's efforts to speak her language. Kaida had revealed earlier that her cousin had not wanted to be sent to marry a 'barbarian' but that the Emperor had ordered her family to send a daughter. Then, the feisty Yamani had pulled out her fan to hide her embarrassment for revealing such secrets to a new acquaintance. Mitsuko had proceeded to assure her that Tortallans were used to gossiping such as this and that they had better learn how to tell secrets too if they were to fit in here. Laurel had had to hide a grin at that statement.

Lady Jin, seeing the introductions finished, motioned for her four charges to follow her down the hall. A young woman in palace livery met them at the grand doors to their hall and escorted the group deeper into the palace.

Kaida moved forward to walk with Sakura, and Mitsuko fell into step with Laurel. The Tortallan felt that the swish of her skirts was far too loud in contrast with the more fitted and quieter kimonos her companions wore. They walked in silence, saving their words for the conversations they would have to make during the banquet ahead.

After a short amount of mingling time, the freshly arrived girls and older married court ladies had settled down to a long table to await their dinners. Laurel and Mitsuko were separated, and the blue eyed girl found herself at one end of the table between Roxanna and a Duchess Cythera of Naxen at the head. She was an elder woman, wife of the Prime Minister, and personal secretary to the queen herself, obviously very high in influence. She had three sons, of which only the youngest remained unmarried. Across from Laurel was a young, freshly married woman, Lady Eglantine of Angharad, who had come out in court only the year before and just gotten married at the end of summer when her knight husband had returned from the north. Another convent girl that Laurel did not know very well was beside Eglantine, and those five made up one conversation group for the evening.

"It is so lovely to see you girls again! It's like a small convent reunion, finding these familiar faces here tonight," the young married woman exclaimed warmly. "And you all look so delighted to be here!" At the convent, Lady Eglantine had been one of the star exempla of how to be a great lady, and everyone there had known her. She was sweet but rather simple-minded for Laurel's taste. Still, she appeared genuinely happy to be there to help them make their way through court life, and the blue eyed girl could not help but smile back.

"And they should be excited!" the older woman cut in. "This is the greatest season I've ever seen for marriage prospects! With the Scanran War treaty signed at the end of the summer, all our young knights should be returning from the border soon. I suspect that this Midwinter will be especially busy," she finished, almost conspiratorially.

Roxanna spoke up delightedly, "And my father shall be returning with them. He wrote me only last week that he already had one in mind for me! That I should be a bride before year's end!" Laurel knew that was a lie—the girl would have mentioned news of such a magnitude before now—but that hardly mattered. Court life would be the same game as convent life only with real men instead of imaginary ones playing.

The others joined in the blather as their first course of soup was ladled into their bowls by servants. Laurel passed the meal quietly, speaking only when she could add something to a discussion. The point of this banquet was to make some connections for the other social events that they would be attending in the time to come and to perhaps, in the case of the older women, get in the running for their own marriageable sons.

The ladies all said their goodbyes near the tenth bell of the evening, and Laurel left with her new Yamani friends Mitsuko and Kaida.

The little dragon directed a question in Yamani at the Tortallan, "_Should you like to join our practice of the shushuken tomorrow morning?_"

The girl knew from her readings that they were referring to a dance-like exercise with their razor-sharp fans. "I probably shouldn't. I'm really rather clumsy, and I'd probably hurt myself. I don't want to be down to nine fingers right before our coming-out ball." The Yamanis had to conceal their giggles to that.

"_Please, Hitomi, come watch even if it doesn't please you to join in," _her roommate interjected.

"_It's quite beautiful to see. And we've all been invited by Lady Yukimi of Queenscove herself, so you must come_," added Kaida.

Laurel considered. She had truly been looking forward to sleeping in to recover from her four days of travel, but she had also been trained by the Daughters to not throw away opportunities to meet people and start a network of social connections. And she did not want to insult her new friends. "_Then, of course I will attend_."

She could sense that the Yamanis were delighted with her acceptance, and the blue eyed girl was glad in return. Now, Laurel listened to what they had learned at their section of the table.

"_Lady Yuki told me that an entire company of the King's Own was returning tomorrow. She said her husband and many of his knight friends were accompanying them. There will be many officers and knights at our ball_," Kaida declared.

Mitsuko added, "_Hitomi, Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan will be arriving with them too. Didn't you speak of her earlier? From one of your books?_"

"_I have two books that just mention her, actually_," Laurel corrected. "_One on lady warriors throughout the ages and another on new troubadour songs with 'The Protector of the Small' in it. It will be interesting to finally see her in person though_… _Did you hear that we must put on a spectacle for our coming-out ball? That means we've only until week's end to arrange something…_"

* * *

The next morning came far too soon for the tired convent girl. She was still a little bleary-eyed as she headed down to a small, indoor practice court with her two friends and Sakura, who refused to speak directly to the Tortallan girl. Laurel could sense the embarrassment of Kaida and even Mitsuko caused by their unfriendly compatriot.

The blue eyed girl was dressed in a simple, brown convent uniform dress, one that she had kept for occasions such as this when a nice gown could get ruined by the dust and dirt of an arena, and had braided her hair in a simple style. She would come to regret these decisions as the quartet reached their destination.

Waiting for them was Lady Yuki, the woman who had invited the Yamani girls to the practice, as well as another Yamani standing next to the most beautiful woman Laurel had ever seen. The girl knew instantly by looking at her, despite her attire being breeches and a loose shirt, that this was Queen Thayet. She then surmised that the other was Princess Shinkonami, future queen of Tortall.

The four reached their waiting crowd and introductions were made efficiently—all the quicker to get to the fan toss. The Yamanis in their lovely kimonos bowed in their style, and Laurel dropped curtseys in her embarrassingly plain dress. What could the Queen and Princess think of her now, showing up looking like she had just walked off the lowest street of Corus? Yet, these high ladies seemed to take her attire in stride without batting an eye in judgement.

Soon enough the five Yamanis and the Queen of Tortall were standing in a circle and Lady Yuki had tossed the fan high in the air. The blue eyed girl settled down on the long bench to watch as they simply flipped the fan around to each other to warm up. They started adding twists and flourishes as the game gained in speed. Laurel could hardly keep up with the _shushuken_ as it flew around above the women's heads.

After awhile of playing the spectator, the blue eyed girl was getting restless. Yes, the fan-dance was beautiful, but honestly, she would rather be curled up in a chair reading a book at the moment. Laurel had never had the coordination or the desire to learn any of these fighting arts, so she could hardly appreciate them fully. A well written novel, on the other had, impressed and amused her very well.

Almost as if they could read her mind, the group of women slowed their game, and it ended with Mitsuko catching the final toss and closing the fan gracefully. The players, their faces bright and rosy from exertion, bowed into the center of the circle and then moved out of formation to commend each other. Laurel's eyes followed Queen Thayet, and Princess Shinkonami, as they struck up a conversation with Sakura, who had to balance her distaste for all things Tortallan with her need to respect its royalty. The girl was almost startled when Kaida spoke only a foot away from her.

"_Hitomi, did you enjoy our game?_" the little dragon had asked. She and Mitsuko had approached with Lady Yukimi and now stood next to Laurel.

The girl stood up to meet them. "_Yes, it was very lovely, thank you for inviting me_," she replied gracefully.

The older Yamani addressed her next. "_Your friends tell me you are afraid to try the shushuken. Do you not wish to learn a ladies' diversion, Lady Hitomi_?" her eyes sparkled with amusement at Laurel's Yamani-given name but then became more serious. "_We may call it a 'game' in jest or recognize it as a form of art, but it is also self-defense. A lady never knows when a fan may save her from great tragedy_."

The blue-eyed girl shook her head slowly. "_I am no warrior, Lady Yukimi, and I could never pretend to be. And why must I have to learn to defend myself? I don't honestly think anyone would try to bother me—I'm usually not noticeable enough_."

The Yamani women exchanged blank looks that were loaded with much meaning. Lady Yuki spoke again, "_Perhaps you should consider that some more… Lady Hitomi, I would be delighted if you would join me for dinner tonight; it will be a small gathering of friends. I've already invited these two ladies. And please, call me Yuki._"

"_Of course… Yuki_," Laurel answered, with a small curtsey of thanks. The Yamani inclined her head and then excused herself to rejoin the royals. The Tortallan girl met the gazes of her two friends. "We have the afternoon meeting with the other convent ladies to plan our spectacle. I will see you in the parlor then—I have something I've been meaning to do…"

The two Yamanis murmured their good wishes and moved to rejoin Sakura.

Laurel left and made her way to one of the numerous palace libraries. This one was full of histories and novels. She had asked a servant for the location at the banquet the previous night. If the girl had remembered correctly, she had to go through the grand statue gallery and turn right, and it would be up the staircase to the left. The girl passed several servants and maids scurrying by, but she managed to find the room without needing to ask for further assistance.

At the top of the curving staircase, the heavy wood door to the library was wide open and the girl stepped through without a pause. Scanning the room hastily, she saw no one and smiled to herself. One of the things she loved most about books was that you had to be alone with them to really interact with them; mind and soul could then engage with what another person had left for you to discover. It was relaxing and exhilarating at the same time. Living in a convent full of silly girls had taught her that solitude of this kind could be positively blissful.

She strode into the center of the room, inhaling the sent of leather binding and dust. The blue eyed girl moved to the first bookcase to her right and climbed up the three steps of the waiting footstool to scrutinize the titles on the top shelf—these were ballads, written in the old language of Tortall. The girl stepped down and took a slow turn about the room, deducing the system of organization and memorizing the location of each section. As she got to the far side of the room she was walking down a row of shelves, eyes only for the volumes occupying them, when she reached a window. As she glanced up, she met the eyes of a man. Startled, she jerked back with a small soundless gasp.

The intruder of her reverie was propped up comfortably on the padded window seat with a small book in his left hand, a finger marking his page. He had tanned skin, sun-lightened brown hair, and bluish-green eyes and wore a slightly rumpled brown and cream tunic with breeches. He stood immediately at her jump and reached out his hand in what he meant as a reassuring gesture.

To the girl, he looked to be reaching _for_ her, and she took a few steps backward in response. "How long have you been there?" she asked breathlessly, truly shaken by his presence in a room she thought to be empty.

He noted this immediately and dropped his arm to his side, giving a small bow. "Pardon me, gentle lady. I can see I frightened you. I only just saw you as you came down this row. I would have said something, but you looked to be concentrating so hard… I thought I should wait."

"Oh," was all she could say. Her heart was still pounding from the surprise, but she could see he meant no harm.

"Can I help you find something?" he offered without moving. "I know my way around here like the back of my hand."

Laurel shook her head a little too quickly for politeness' sake. "No, thank you. I was just looking. Good day." She gave a small curtsey and spun on her heel, walking to the door as rapidly as her light slippers would allow her to move.


	3. A Social Life

_Author's Note_: A really long chapter... but I figure that that is better than splitting up a scene. All my writing is coming along smoothly—many chapters are partially written and all are sketched out. Let me take this space to acknowledge my friendly reviewers: inktouge58, LadyReaderofBooks, Shang Leopard, anythingatall, Alicegirl, oirishgoddess, Evilstrawberry, and that anonymous one. I really appreciate you taking the time to type me a few words :)

**A Social Life**

Laurel and the two Yamanis were led by a palace servant to the apartments of Lady Yuki and her husband Sir Nealean of Queenscove that night. The Tortallan girl slipped a few coppers into their guide's palm when they reached the door, and the boy disappeared. She reached out her hand tentatively to ring the bell cord.

A split-second later, a tall, green-eyed man opened the door wide. "Who have we here?"

Lady Yuki arrived in the doorway only a beat behind him. "They are our guests for the evening, my husband. There are always too many warriors around—I thought I should invite some ladies to keep you boys in line tonight," the Yamani woman chided in good humor.

The green-eyed man, who was now confirmed as healer-knight Sir Nealean, puffed out his chest. "We just got back from a war, my flower. We are big, strong warrior _men_ now, not _boys_."

"That's what you think," snorted a tall, muscular woman with short hair that stood among the other guests in the room. Dressed in a simple tailored shirt and clean breeches, she could only be Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan. The blue-eyed girl's eyes widened a little—she looked so big and strong, even next to the other fighting men in the room!

The warrior with shaggy dark hair closest to Lady Knight Keladry dramatically grasped his chest. "You wound me, Protector of the Small!" A grin quickly broke out on his face and ruined the quasi-serious intent. The woman just rolled her eyes, and the other two men in the room chuckled, obviously used to such jokes in their current company. Laurel's eyes grew even wider—what informal talk! Convent manners had not prepared her for this! She was taught to act properly with a certain level of decorum at all times, and unlike many of the wilder girls at the convent, the blue-eyed girl had truly listened and had continually tried to live by these rules. She wondered how the Yamani girls were dealing with this group before them. When she stole a glance at them, both had their fans out to cover their faces.

Yuki drew them all in so Sir Neal could shut the door. Introductions were done informally, as it was an informal gathering. All insisted on being called by their first name without title—Neal, Kel, Dom, Merric, and Owen. The noblemen all kissed the back of Laurel's hand, meeting her blue gaze steadily with friendly looks. Sergeant Dom had even given her a wink, and she had felt caught for a few lightheaded seconds in his deep blue eyes. Overall, she felt a little woozy from all their attentions.

The perceptive lady knight seemed to pick up on this effect and shooed the men back from the three new arrivals. With a confiding tone Kel told Laurel, "Excuse them. We've just arrived from the north, and they haven't seen proper ladies in a long time. They've forgotten how to behave."

As the members of the party arranged themselves about the room, the girl noticed that the furniture and décor was a tasteful mélange of Tortallan and Yamani. There was a low table with cushions in one corner but also a set of traditional Eastern furniture to offer comfort to all. Laurel found herself on one end of a sofa. Mitsuko was perched on the other end but engaged in conversation with Yuki in rapid Yamani. A Sir Owen sat in a chair to the left of the blue-eyed girl, and Sir Merric had gone to fetch her something to drink. Laurel had just listened to Owen's account of the jolly ride down from the border when the redheaded knight arrived with a glass of sweet wine for her.

"For you, milady," he said as he handed her the goblet. She accepted it with a smile and he sat down beside her, brushing a lock of red hair off of his forehead. "Are you finding life at the palace agreeable?" he inquired.

The girl took a small sip before answering. "Yes, very much so. Everyone has been so kind, and I made a great acquaintance in Lady Yuki this morning." Laurel sipped at her drink again, meeting Merric's eyes for a long moment. "And the library I visited today was wonderful, though I had a bit of a fright."

Sir Owen broke in excitedly, stealing her attention, "Was that you? My cousin said he startled a lady in there this morning. But he should be here soon to apologize in person." Her blue eyes widened in fear as her face reddened; truthfully, the entire afternoon she had just felt terribly embarrassed for running off like a skittish deer. What sort of impression had she made acting like that? The girl had been hoping to never run into that man again. But now that she had revealed herself as 'the girl from the library,' how could she escape?

Almost as if he had been summoned, a knock came on the door, and Neal let in the man she immediately recognized from the library. Sir Owen had left her side to see to his kin, so from across the room Laurel watched him greet his friends. The two Yamani girls were introduced first, as they were closer to the door. Then, the gazes and the gestures moved on to her, and she stood but remained rooted to the spot as familiar hazel eyes approached with Sir Owen's hand on their connecting shoulder. "Milady," he murmured softly as he bowed with one hand placed over his heart and the other extended towards her. The blue-eyed girl tentatively reached hers out, and the young knight grasped it lightly to kiss the back before standing tall again. "I am Sir Iden of Vikison Lane, milady. I didn't mean to scare you out of the library this morning."

"Not at all Sir Iden," Laurel replied as she curtseyed. "I am Laurel of Fury's Valley."

"Fury's Valley is an interesting name for a fief. Is there a good story behind that?" asked the eager Owen.

Laurel blinked as she collected herself for an explanatory speech; all eyes were on her. "Oh, I believe it's from the story of the old goddess of the wind. She fell in love with a mortal man, and when he betrayed her and ran into the hills, she sent the great winds of all the directions down at him so hard that it split the mountains into a narrow valley. Even today there is talk of winds carrying off unfaithful men when they travel through the passes there."

"'Hell hath no _fury_ like a woman scorned!'" exclaimed the poetic Sir Neal, delighted that he was able to quote from his repertoire of literature.

"Something like that," Laurel smiled. She too recognized the reference.

The conversation settled back into small groups, and the blue-eyed girl found herself speaking only with Iden. "So, have you all been friends a long time?" she asked politely while adjusting her skirts now that she had reseated herself.

Iden shook his head slowly. "Well, some of them were year-mates in knight's training and have been friends since childhood. Neal and Dom are cousins. I am the youngest of the bunch, but by grace of relation to Owen of Jesslaw, I had an introduction after I won my shield and joined the northern campaign. Then, I was stationed at one of the forts with Neal, Merric, and Owen so we got to know each other there too. On the ride home, this little group formed and I was invited to this party tonight."

"I see," Laurel answered. She sipped at her wine, meeting his eyes over the rim of the goblet. The knight smiled broadly in response. The girl wondered what she had done to deserve that as she gracefully set her empty cup on the table in front of her.

"And how did you get to be invited, Lady Laurel?" he inquired. "I understood that you have only just arrived at the palace as well."

"I am living in the Yamani wing with the two ladies here. This morning I met Lady Yuki at their fan practice and was invited." The blue-eyed girl looked up as another knight approached.

It was Kel. "_I thought I would come rescue you from our eager friend,_" she began in Yamani.

Laurel simply smiled in amusement as Iden looked up at his comrade in confusion. "_You honor me, lady knight_," she answered with a respectful nod.

Neal had heard the exchange and made his thoughts known… loudly. "Now I see why you invited them, Yuki! You wanted to chatter with the ladies Yamani behind our poor Tortallan male backs." As the company laughed in response, Yuki rapped her husband's arm with the fan she had danced with that morning. With the way the knight rubbed the spot, Laurel knew that it had probably been a harder hit that it looked.

Her attention was drawn back to her immediate company by Kel's voice. "Iden," she began politely. The blue-eyed girl recalled that they were not close friends. "Why don't you fetch the lady a fresh drink?"

"Of course! Ladies." He jumped up with the girl's glass in hand, and the lady knight smoothly took his seat.

"_The Yamanis tell me to call you Hitomi—I can see why. I'm slightly jealous that no one uses a Yamani name for me_."

"Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan," the convent girl sounded out. "_Surely that_ _is recognizable in any language these days_," Laurel offered in a courtly manner.

Kel considered her briefly before she spoke again. "_Just 'Kel' between us, please. I must admit that I have an ulterior motive to speaking with you. I was wondering if you would like to learn some defensive moves in case any situation should arise… I wouldn't mind personally teaching you if you are worried about what people would think—"_

The blue-eyed girl cut her off with a firm shake of her head. "_I'm sorry, Kel, but that would be against my nature. I don't want to have to fight anyone. But thank you for your kind offer_." She wanted to end this embarrassing talk; obviously the Yamani ladies had said something about her comment that morning. Luckily, Iden reappeared with her full glass of wine. "Thank you," she said graciously as she accepted it, purposefully changing to Common.

The lady knight made her excuses and did not speak to Laurel for the rest of the evening. Nonetheless, the girl had plenty of other conversation partners in the other knights and ladies gathered there. At the end of the night, her head felt a little funny from too much wine, but she was satisfied with her new connections.

Since the next few days were taken up by rehearsals with the other convent girls for the grand spectacle of the coming-out ball, Laurel did not see any of her new palace friends. Even her Yamani hall-mates could only say 'good morning' and 'good night' as she left and returned each day; they were doing their own act for the spectacle and thus had no need to practice with the others. When the blue-eyed girl found herself with a free evening after dinner just the day before the great ball, she decided to make a late social call and stopped by Lady Yuki's suite.

She was more than surprised when Yuki opened the door with a baby in her arm. "_Hitomi, what a pleasure. Please, come in_." The blue-eyed girl obeyed, closing the door behind her. As she followed the woman into an adjoining room, she saw the large crib with another baby squirming in it.

"_I had no idea that you had children_," she said dumbly, standing in the doorway.

"_They're only a year old, my girls_," Yuki told her as she settled the first baby next to her sister. "_When you visited last, my parents-in-law had taken them for the night_."

"Oh," Laurel replied. Another knock on the door caused them to both look over. Yuki crossed the two rooms quickly to answer it again.

A page bowed to deliver his message. "Her Highness Princess Shinkonami requests your presence in her chambers, milady."

"That is impossible—it is my nursemaid's day off and my husband is working. I can't leave my children right now," the Yamani said calmly. Laurel thought she sensed a slight edge to her words though.

Before the page could respond, Laurel jumped into the exchange from across the room. "I could watch them for you," she offered.

A blank face turned to the Tortallan girl to study her. "You wouldn't mind? I don't want to impose on your busy schedule right before the ball."

"I only have to practice for the spectacle. If the girls wouldn't mind listening to that, we should be fine." The girl met the woman's gaze as confidently as she could.

Yuki considered this only a moment; obviously she wanted to respect the summons of her friend and princess. "I just fed them, so they should fall asleep soon. If you sing a lullaby they should close their eyes. I won't be long." Laurel nodded and the Yamani was out the door in just a minute.

Their mother was right—the twins fell asleep soon after she left. The Tortallan girl set to work on recalling her roughly memorized lines in the main room where she had passed that evening among knights only a few days before. After awhile of her recitation, she heard through the cracked door to the nursery one of the baby girls make a fussy noise. The blue-eyed girl stepped inside the darkened chamber and over to the crib to pick the child up. Carrying her into the other room so as to not wake her sister, the convent girl rocked the child gently and settled herself comfortably on the sofa. Then, Laurel sang slowly and sweetly.

"_Sleep my baby, rest my loved one,_

_Softly slumber now with me._

_Clasped in mother's arms so tender,_

_Warm in mother's love for thee…"_

Her voice trailed off as the baby let out a delicate snore to illustrate that she was asleep again.

"You have a beautiful voice," a man said softly behind her.

Laurel twisted her head back to look at the door, trying not to disturb the newly sleeping baby cradled in her lap. She had not heard the healer-knight enter. "Thank you, Sir Neal. Yuki was called away by Princess Shinko, and I volunteered to watch the girls for her," she whispered.

"That was very kind of you, Lady Laurel." Neal walked over to take the now sleeping child from her arms. As their hands brushed during the transaction, a bright, little spark of magic light went off. The healer's eyebrows rose in askance as he straightened with the snoring bundle in his grasp.

"Sorry," said Laurel, feeling—and looking—very embarrassed. "I have a very small Gift for healing. All I can really do is make people calm down. Sometimes I don't even notice when I'm doing it—I must have been helping her fall asleep."

"Did they teach you anything at the convent?" he inquired as he walked into the next room to settle his baby girl back in her crib.

When he returned and closed the door to the nursery behind him, she replied, "As I said, there isn't much there, so they released me from magic classes after a few months. Sometimes the Daughters would ask me to sit with the old gardener and hold his hand to relieve his aches, and he would tell me about taking care of flowers in return. That's all I ever used it for. My three older brothers can do much more than me."

"Come to think of it, there was a Fury's Valley just ahead of me at University…" he thought aloud.

She nodded. "My third brother, Ethan, is a healer. He's probably around your age."

Neal reached out a hand. "Show me what you do."

Gingerly, Laurel reached out and grasped it lightly with her fingertips. She cleared her mind to think only of the lullaby and how she wanted to bring some calm into the world around her. A trickle of white gold light flowed out of her hand and into the healer. After a moment, he took a deep breath. "That is good," he murmured, his eyes closing.

Laurel immediately pulled her hand back and the shimmering fire disappeared with a crystal blue flash. "Sorry, I think I'm putting you to sleep, too."

The knight reopened his drooping eyelids, and a warm green gaze came down to her blue. "If you ever need something to do, we could always use your talents in the infirmary—the healing or the singing."

"I shall take you up on that soon, Sir Neal," she said with a small smile. She was finding new things to do at the palace all the time, but this one would actually be helping people like the old gardener who had always been so kind. When he trimmed the roses, he always gave her one as she passed.

The blue-eyed girl was awoken from her reverie by the knight's voice. "Well, I think I can relieve you here. You seem to have done all of the hard work anyway. My thanks, Milady Laurel," he said with a Player's flourished bow.

She rose from the sofa. "Any time that you and Lady Yuki need a hand, please call on me. You have both been so kind to a girl new to the palace."

Crossing his arms across his chest, Neal shrugged slowly, his green eyes very kind yet still very serious as he replied, "Well, you are an intelligent, Yamani-speaking babysitter with a magic touch, so how could we in any sense turn you away?"

The reddening girl did not quite know how to respond to a compliment as kind as that, so she asked him a question instead. "Will you be at the coming-out ball tomorrow, Sir Neal?"

"Unless something unexpected calls me away, of course. Why?" he asked, expression curious.

"I will be singing again, but there will also be a great surprise. Something that has never been done before," she told him, almost in confidence. The spectacle was supposed to be a secret.

Interest piqued, he smiled, "Then I look forward to it." He watched as the quiet, young lady dipped a small curtsey and slipped out of the room. "Full of surprises, that one," he murmured, staring at the closed door for a moment. His eyelids began to droop again; her healing really did make him feel relaxed…


	4. Presentation is Everything

_Author's Note_: I must admit that it has been two or three years since I've read the POTS or Trickster books, so I am a tad fuzzy on dates and details. For the question of ages, I gave the Scanran War a few years and then left our gang patrolling the border for a few months. I'm giving Kel to be around 21/22, and thus, Neal is 26/27. Iden is meant to be 19/20, so he had about one year as a knight right at the end of the war and doing border duty. I would also think that fighting a war helps to distance you a little from the innocents of the world, like our Lady Laurel here ;)

**Presentation Is Everything**

A coming-out ball.

_The_ coming-out ball.

_Her_ coming-out ball and that of her convent year-mates and new Yamani friends. This was the night that would change them from girls to real ladies, now fully eligible for marriage. One night announced to the world that they were ready for such a task. It was the night that all the convent girls yearned for and feared all at once, whether they were together in chattering groups at mealtime or alone at night with the curtains drawn and no one there to comfort the girl as she shuddered at the thought.

It was here for Laurel of Fury's Valley, and she was terrified.

But who could even tell? Hidden under her long silvery-blue formal gown widened by a hoop in the old style that her mother had sent her, the girl's knees quivered. Maybe if one took the time, one could see her chest rising up and down a bit too quickly over the top of the fitted and embroidered bodice; the large aquamarine stone surrounded by small pearls and hung from a think chain of white gold almost seemed to be bouncing from its place in the shadow between her breasts. But in contrast, her hands remained steady and her face was the picture of calm and composure.

There was an animated chatter in the antechamber where the girls waited. Laurel was positioned halfway between the three kimono-clad Yamanis, speaking rather more rapidly than usual but in normal tones, and a knot of her convent friends—Roxanna, Alisonne, and Amelie—who were dressed in their finest as well. Roxanna's family was the only one who could compare in wealth to Fury's Valley, and she too had a gemstone necklace—an iridescent green peridot with fine gold work to match her light green jewel-toned dress. The quiet beauty of the dark featured Amelie was showcased more modestly in a simpler rich lavender shade. The tall, thin Alisonne's soft pink rose gown had delicate floral embroidery that snaked flatteringly across the bodice; she may have even done it herself since that was her talent. The blue-eyed girl had nothing to say to any one out of concern or comfort, so she kept her mouth shut and waited in silence. She could not turn back now, so she resolved to square her shoulders and meet the challenge head on.

Laurel's fidgeting hands ran over her perfectly arranged skirts, the necklace flawlessly laid on her chest, her pinned up hair with its pearl-and-gold comb tucked in the back, the line of kohl that brought out her crystal eyes and the hint of face paint that brought a rosier glow to her pale cheeks. There was nothing more to do in preparation. She took as deep of breaths as she could manage in her tightly corseted belly. The fluttering there reminded her that she had not eaten all day due to her nerves. She had fallen prey to nervousness in general and also in her ability to fit into the gown itself; her mother seemed to have run a bit tight in her daughter's measurements.

One of the tall doors out of the antechamber (but not the one leading out to the ballroom) opened and the Master of Etiquette appeared. He was a balding, middle-aged man with a well-oiled moustache, but his clothes and manners were admittedly impeccable, as they should be. A hush went over the room, and all eyes were on him as he bowed to the girls. A sea of curtseys answered.

"Ladies," the Master began, "I do hope everyone remembers the order of events: first, entry down the grand staircase with your escorts, announced one-by-one by the herald; you will follow the red carpet to curtsey before Their Majesties. Your escorts will leave you at the side of the stage for the spectacle. The Yamani ladies shall perform first, followed by your 'surprise,' and then the Queen's favorite song must be sung. Everyone understand, yes?"

A few heads in the crowd nodded, and he took that for general agreement. "Very good!" The Master of Etiquette turned to call out into the hallway behind him. "Gentlemen, enter!" he said, his voice slightly more harried than when he had spoken to the girls.

As he stepped out of the doorway, a flood of young men entered. Some looked just as nervous as Laurel felt, but great deal seemed to have grins on their faces; those ones had probably done this before. And on the arm of their pretty ladies, what had they to lose? If Laurel tripped and fell flat on her face in front of Their Majesties or forgot the words to her song, the entire court would have her pegged as a clumsy fool! Her escort would just be pitied for having the unfortunate luck to have been standing next to her.

The Master arranged the ladies and gentlemen in two lines; Laurel was the third in hers with the large, ornately carved wooden doors to the grand ballroom only feet away from her. She stole a sidelong glance at her assigned escort and noted that he was one of the confident-looking ones. The blue-eyed girl did not know if that was a good or bad thing. Kaida was in line in front of her and she risked a look over her shoulder. "_Luck to you, Hitomi_," she whispered blank-faced but with a twinkle of excitement in her eye.

Laurel smiled and reached out to press the girl's hand. "_Luck_," she wished her back. With that word and a loud clap from the Master, the heavy doors were pushed open and all eyes snapped forward. The girl could see the large, delicately wrought chandeliers with their hundred of candles suspended over the large room. A sea of colors below was parted by the red and gold carpet that led directly to the thrones on the far end of the room. The stage was off to the right, its heavy curtains still drawn shut. The herald bellowed the first names, and the couple joined hands and stepped down the stairwell.

Kaida and her escort took a large step forward, and the lines followed suit. Laurel's head twisted to the side when the boy beside her gently took her hand. "Squire Alan, at your service," he said in a low voice, touching his lips to her fingers. He took the next step forward as the Yamani was announced away, and the blue-eyed girl almost jumped to catch up.

She opened her mouth to say something, but the words came from another source. "Lady Laurel of Fury's Valley, escorted by Squire Alan of Pirate's Swoop," the herald bellowed. The newly acquainted pair moved forward, steps in sync as the Etiquette Master had ordered. The squire held her hand steadily aloft as they walked almost three feet apart from each other. Laurel had to concentrate on each stair to keep from tripping on her skirts. Once on the main floor, she forced a small smile and tried to walk confidently under the gazes of the Tortallan court. She was dimly aware of the polite applause and the tinkle of music from the quartet in the corner that accompanied each girl's descent.

Halfway down the length of the room, the next girl's name was called, and most eyes went to her. Laurel took the opportunity to inhale deeply through her nose and exhale through her mouth. Only a few paces separated her from the royals of Tortall. Her blue eyes darted upwards to take in the splendor before her. On a raised dais, King Jonathan and Queen Thayet sat in matching thrones, and on either side of them, Prince Roald and Princess Shinkokami occupied smaller versions. The ladies were both dressed in Tortallan style gowns greatly richer than the casual clothes Laurel had met them in only days before at _shusuken_ practice. Her gaze lowered in respect as she edged closer and closer.

When the pair reached the appropriate spot, they halted. Laurel, head bowed, closed her eyes and focused on curtseying smoothly, sinking her weight evenly down to the ground while elegantly pulling her skirt out to one side. A squeeze from Squire Alan's hand reminded her to stand up straight again. Together they moved off to the right towards the stage. As they passed beneath her, the blue-eyed girl caught the gaze of the Queen and received a friendly smile of recognition. She had not made a fool of herself yet.

The next moment Laurel was conscious of was when the stage curtains opened, and she saw the crowd staring up expectantly at her and the other convent girls. The three Yamani ladies had already done a complicated fan dance with solo and ensemble parts set to an almost sad-sounding native song. Now it was the others' turn to win the audience.

The convent girls had decided to do a morality play. Normally at coming-out balls the new ladies simply did medleys of songs and dances, but under the leadership of Lady Lindley and her group of friends, this more imaginative production was formulated and put into practice.

Laurel, although still clad in her ball gown, played a gentlemen who represented greed, claiming all the ladies for himself alone while the other 'gentlemen' onstage were forced to dance with each other. Other girls took on the roles of other vices to illustrate lessons of laziness, obsession with work, and coquettishness (a crowd favorite), among others. Serious moments were interspersed with comedic relief, so the audience remained enraptured throughout the courtly drama and wit.

At the end of the play, the girls lined up along the front of the stage to take their bows to the wild cheers of the assembled court. Hardly allowing the noise to die out, a flushed and nervously grinning Laurel stepped forward on one side of the stage and began singing, her small, clear voice breaking through the applause until it seemed all of Tortall fell silent to listen. This was Queen Thayet's favorite song about the great women of the past: the beauties, the warriors, and the mages; it was traditional that the convent girls sang it to her at this event. At each chorus, the line of ladies chimed in together, but it was Laurel who sweetly sang out the verses that described the great accomplishments of these notable women of history and legend.

Usually the blue-eyed girl was so quiet that no one had reason to bother to feel jealous of her. The girl had been one of the best in singing class at the convent, but she had never had the ambition for solo parts. She had gotten this part only as a compromise choice between Roxanna and one of the other convent girls who had traded harsh words over it. During and after her performance, however, more than one lady onstage felt a twinge of jealousy for her moment to shine.

Laurel, however, could not see the people there or feel the girls at her back. While singing of these great women she saw them flash across her mind's eye, their deeds acted out again to give her the authority to speak of them. The last refrain snuck up on her as the court girls joined in:

"Dear Prince, ask not each week  
Where they are, nor each year,  
Because this refrain will follow you:  
Where are the snows of yesteryear?"

The blue-eyed girl's trance was broken when Amelie grasped her hand to make the final bow. Only then did she hear the cheers again.

When the ladies descended from the stage door, a crowd of jostling gentlemen awaited them, fighting to speak to the lady of their choice. After the last stair, Laurel looked up into the eyes of Squire Alan. He offered a hand to escort her out of the fray, and she took it without hesitation.

The pairs of young men and ladies assembled into two lines of dancers and took up the familiar steps as the music dictated them. At one point each couple joined hands, and the squire looked down at Laurel to whisper "You were a goddess up there tonight."

"That is blasphemy, Squire Alan," the girl replied calmly. They had to split apart to join hands with other partners. When they came together again, she changed the subject, "You seem too old to be a mere squire…"

As soon as the song had ended, the Sir Merric that she had met at Yuki's party was there to take the squire's place. He too expressed a great appreciation for her performing skill but in more realistic terms. After that dance, she was led over to where the rest of Lady Yuki's group stood—the entire party from a few nights ago plus a few more that the girl did not know. Mitsuko stood between Yuki and Sir Iden who had been the Yamani's escort. Laurel made a moment's eye contact with him and looked away embarrassed; she still felt silly for running out of the library like she had. The girl could feel that the young knight's gaze lingered on her a bit longer than necessary.

There were complimentary remarks made on her performance and voice from those she knew, and she tried to take them gracefully. Sir Owen introduced his sweet fiancée Margarry, and she took Laurel's hands in hers and invited the blue-eyed girl to visit her any time. "Owen told me that he had met a nice girl from the convent, and I could hardly believe him. I remember most of the others as being vicious little things. But when I saw you up there so serene but strong, I knew he had told the truth." Behind these courtly words, the blue-eyed girl could detect a sharp humor, and she looked forward to stopping by for a chat.

The handsome Sergeant Dom then showed up at her side and bowed low. "May I have this dance, milady?" His head popped back up and he winked roguishly.

Laurel held out her hand coyly with a smile of her own and let him lead her back to the dance floor. She had already made up her mind not to refuse a dance the entire evening. This song was slower and meant for couples to dance alone. There was a moment of time for the pair to ready themselves before the actual dance began; the sergeant pulled her slightly closer than called for, and she looked up in unfeigned surprise. His eyes were more vividly blue than she had remembered from the party, though she had barely spoken to him that night. Something about his face vaguely reminded her of Sir Neal.

Those thoughts trailed off as the dance began. Their bodies moved together effortlessly—Laurel had a good feel for rhythm and the exactness of the movements, and Dom was an excellent partner who knew how to show off his lady. He added a few twirls for her to perform, and every time she spun back into his arms, she seemed to get a little closer to his body. Feeling very aware of this, Laurel scanned his handsome tanned face. She saw that his lips wore the twinge of a hidden smile and a curl from his dark hair rested out-of-place on his forehead. The girl could only match his gaze for a split second before she had to look down again, staring at his strong shoulder clad in a rich blue and silver tunic. "Are you teasing me, sir?" she asked.

"Look at me, Lady Laurel," he said softly, not missing a step. The girl obeyed slowly and held herself unyieldingly against the blueness. Dom continued, eDoDom"Now you're teasing _me_, looking up through those long eyelashes of yours."

Almost defiantly, Laurel tilted her chin further upwards to meet his gaze head on. "Ah, there—I can see them now. Aquamarine eyes like your perfect jewel there." His eyes dropped to the stone nestled at the shadow of her breasts.

"Where do you keep the sapphire to match yours?" she returned pertly with one eyebrow raised. She never did like compliments on the things she had no control over, like the color of her eyes.

The man grinned. "There's the confidence you had on that stage tonight. I was wondering if your shyness was the true act."

The girl returned sharply, "Nothing I do is an act."

"Well, whatever it is that you did on that stage, you are a brilliantly shining star. I couldn't see anyone else. You will certainly be the talk of the court after this evening—talented and stunningly beautiful."

The end of the dance came too soon for Laurel to argue; she had to curtsey at the end and then applaud the musicians. Her crystal eyes were locked with Dom's sparkling ones, almost in a dare. When the first notes of the next song sang out, they wordlessly positioned themselves in the two forming lines, ladies on one side facing the gentlemen on the other.

They did not have the opportunity to talk during the course of these quicker and more complicated steps, so at the end of the dance, Dom escorted her away. They passed the shrewd Roxanna who was standing at the edge of the dance floor with Alisonne and a few young men, and she shot a fierce hazel glare at Laurel. The girl tried to shake it off as the sergeant steered her around. They seemed to be heading toward the balcony doors that were open to let fresh air into the festive heat of the great chamber. The perceptive blue-eyed girl saw the trick in this and instead pulled him back to their crowd of friends.

Arriving there with a dazed Dom still connected to her arm, Laurel found that Princess Shinko and Prince Roald had joined the group, and they too gave her a warm reception. "The Queen very much enjoyed your song, Lady Laurel," Shinko said. "She wonders if you would perform again at another event this season."

Releasing her recent dance partner and inclining her head in a sign of acquiescence, the blue-eyed girl responded with, "Tell Her Majesty that I am honored by her compliments and her invitation. I could only say yes to such an offer."

Neal, also witnessing the exchange, added with an air of superiority, "You only have to be there when she rocks one of my darling little girls to sleep; I got a private performance only yesterday…"

By the end of the ball, Laurel's head swam with too many names and titles, perfumes and colors, food and wine. She felt she had indulged a bit too much in both the intoxication of alcohol and dancing. And she had spent a good portion of the night avoiding Dom who seemed a little too eager to rile her up. Luckily, she had no shortage of nobles to meet and to dance with and to introduce her to more people. The girl was more than ready to call it a night and climb into her soft, waiting bed.

Dom watched as that oddly quiet knight Iden offered to walk Mitsuko and Laurel back to their room and half-heartedly wished he could have that clever singing girl leaving with him. He had only begun to tease a fiery spirit out of her when the rest of the court had stolen her away. Gods, that blue-eyed siren must have danced with every eligible young man at the ball! He saw the two ladies took the younger man's arms, both still remarkably animated after the long night of festivities.

"They get younger every year," the blue-eyed man sighed tiredly. Maybe in all his time away fighting King Maggur, he had lost his touch. He sipped at his wine and watched the three leave over the rim of his goblet.

A hand clapping on his shoulder made him sputter a bit. He glanced to the side to find his green-eyed cousin standing there with a wry grin on his face. Neal shook his head in mock-seriousness, drawling, "No, my dear Domitan, they stay the same age. _You_ just get older."

* * *

The idea and lyrics of the poem come from the "Ballad of ladies of former times (Ballade des dames du temps jadis)" by François Villon:

Prince, n'enquerrez de semaine  
Où elles sont, ni de cet an,  
Qu'à ce refrain ne vous ramène :  
Mais où sont les neiges d'antan ?


	5. Things To Do

_Author's Note_: I've been reading a lot of modern novels lately, and they have definitely been toying with my writing style. The story may seem rambling and without a point right now, but I am leaving you hints and sub-plots that will all contribute to the climax—I swear! Half the fun is getting there, and I am thoroughly enjoying the day-to-day of Laurel's life, aren't you?

Do not let my lighthearted tone throw you off… Darker days are ahead.

**Things To Do**

The next afternoon saw a party of energized convent girls heading down to a seamstress' shop in the Lower City. It was not so far that they had occasion to worry about pickpockets or anything of that nature; a woman named Lalasa made dresses for the Queen herself and so had a large shop conveniently around the corner from the Temple district where plenty of watchful guards stood at attention. The young ladies had an appointment for dress fittings for their winter gowns.

Laurel was among the group of seven. The usual Roxanna, Alisonne, and Amelie were around as well as Lady Lindley, the mastermind of the coming-out ball spectacle, and two of her closest friends. Roxanna and Lindley seemed to have formed an alliance of sorts and were walking arm-in-arm at the head of the line. The blue-eyed girl had found her way to the back next to Amelie, and they compared their still fresh impressions of the grand ballroom in all its glory and the nobles that had filled it just the night before.

Despite the previous late night, the ladies had set a quick pace, and it took them only half an hour to walk from the inner palace gate where they had met to the shop door itself. The day was warm, and everyone seemed to be in good spirits. Roxanna even dropped back to speak to the quiet pair in the rear.

"Lalasa's gowns are the best in the kingdom! And you can just tell her your price range—don't be shy about that, Amelie. She understands tighter budgets and can find all sorts of little ways to cut back on price while still doing the most beautiful creations," the girl told them. Laurel could feel her first walking companion's spirits fall at the comment on her family's riches, or lack thereof. That had been uncalled for—it was heavy pirate activity that had wreaked havoc on Amelie's father's shipping lines and drained their coffers. The shy girl could hardly be held responsible for that.

Once inside the spacious shop, the girls scattered to browse the dresses out on display or to select the fabrics they wanted for their new gowns. A shop assistant motioned to Laurel to come over to her counter that displayed lengths of ribbons and a collection of broaches. She sized the convent girl up with her eyes, noting size, skin tone, and eye color in one practiced sweep. "What can we do for you, milady?" she asked pleasantly.

Laurel smiled her greetings. "Some gowns for the winter season—I think three should suffice for most events and then, of course, one grander one for the Midwinter's Ball."

"Do you have anything particular in mind?" the assistant inquired all business-like as she wrote the information down.

"I'll trust your judgment in the latest styles," the girl replied absently, her eyes roaming the row of cameo broaches under the glass of the counter. Laurel, suddenly remembering Roxanna's hint, carefully looked around her before drawing out the purse of money her mother had sent for this very purpose. "And money's not really an issue," she added quietly as she set the bag between them.

The assistant smoothly accepted the purse of coins, deftly setting the bag behind the counter so as not to draw attention. "Let's get you measured then, Lady…" Her dark eyes looked up in askance.

"Laurel of Fury's Valley," the girl supplied.

The convent girl followed the shop assistant to a side room with three mirrors that were set around a small raised circle. A curtain swinging closed hid them from the people in the shop-proper. Laurel was helped out of her dress and directed to stand on the pedestal in her shift. An older, stouter woman entered to wrap a knotted cord around various parts of her body and call out numbers which the counter girl dutifully wrote down in her notes. At the end, the two conferred for a moment over the sheet of parchment and the older woman mumbled, "I see..."

Louder, in a voice directed at the blue-eyed girl, the seamstress said, "I think I have something already done up that you'll like. We can tailor it right now." Laurel nodded, and the two women slipped out to retrieve the dress.

They came back with a cream silk and silver thread confection that required both of their sets of arms to carry in. "That would be for Midwinter then?" the convent girl asked breathlessly, her blue eyes taking in the most beautiful dress she had ever seen.

"It's a masterwork by Mistress Lalasa's own hand," the dark-eyed assistant told her with a smile. "We think that ivory, cream, and white will be very popular this Midwinter. Shall we?"

Between the three of them, the ladies got the ball gown on, and the older woman set herself to pinning it up for alterations. Laurel stood perfectly still and was pleasantly surprised to not be pricked once. In the meantime as she faced the mirrors, the girl was left to admire the lace decorated bodice that flared into a full skirt; the silk turned into shimmering purples and blues where it caught the light.

When the seamstress had finished, she and the assistant helped Laurel out of the fine gown and took it back into the workroom. The blue-eyed girl was lacing up the front of her plain dress again when the counter girl returned with a paper receipt. "We'll have it sent it up to the palace by tomorrow. And a messenger will be sent to you when the others are ready for fitting." Laurel smiled as she spoke her thanks and slid a silver coin into the girl's hand.

It was not much longer until the other girls were ready as well. Besides custom orders like Laurel had placed, a number of dresses were bought off of the rack to be altered by the ladies who could not afford a seamstress to tailor for them. The young ladies chattered about their purchases as they started up the incline of the Temple Way.

Nearing the outer palace gate, Allisonne caught sight of a group of young knights with swords on their hips walking towards them on their way into the city. A ripple of excited whispers at the front spread to Laurel and Amelie in the back of the line. The blue-eyed girl studied the approaching party and was surprised to realize that she knew all of them. She stepped out of the mob of giggling ladies to say hello, but Dom beat her to it.

"Lady Laurel!" he called in exaggerated astonishment. His three companions spotted her too, and they all strode over to talk to her. The girl was dimly aware that her fellow shoppers had stopped somewhere behind her to watch the exchange. The sergeant, arriving first, took her hand and bowed over it, kissing her fingertips in the process. "What brings you out here this afternoon? The ball didn't tire you out too much last night?" he asked with a playful grin.

The girl blinked at him a moment, considering what to say to counter this flirt's game. "A good lady neglects her duty neither in dancing nor in dress shopping." Laurel turned her attentions briskly to the others. "Good afternoon, Kel, gentlemen," she said with an incline of the head. The lady knight and Merric responded in kind, but Iden came forward to kiss her hand as well. Their eyes caught for a second, and the girl could not identify what she saw in them.

Kel asked politely, "I hope you went to Lalasa for your dresses. She always does a fine job with mine."

"Of course," Laurel answered. "Everyone says she is the best." The lady knight smiled to herself.

Dom regained control of the meeting quickly. "My Meatheaded cousin Neal and his lovely wife are hosting a picnic party the day after tomorrow. I'd love it if you joined us," he hinted hopefully to the convent girl.

"I would enjoy that immensely—and I could never refuse an invitation from Neal and Yuki," she replied with a coy smile, easily dodging his implied offer of being his escort for the event. She did not want to let people think she was getting involved with him in some way.

"And bring a friend," Merric added, his eyes focused on the ladies behind her. Laurel discreetly traced his gaze to Amelie who stood to the side of the group of convent girls who were waiting for the blue-eyed girl to finish.

"I will," Laurel assured him smoothly. "But I should get back to my friends and let you be on your way." The girl curtseyed to their small bows and returned to the waiting party. As Dom and the knights passed, they called out greetings to the ladies who each smiled and inwardly decided that one of the men had been looking directly at _her_. After a few moments for recovery, the girls were able to continue their walk up to the palace with even more to gossip about.

Lady Lindley pushed her way to the blue-eyed girl's side as they strolled. "How do you know all those knights like that? You know, I danced with that redhead last night—I'm sure he was looking right at me when you talked to them," she confided.

"Well, Dom is actually a sergeant in the King's Own, not a knight. And they were all friends of—" Laurel began, but was cut off by Roxanna's voice as the girl appeared at her other side.

"That was Domitan of Masbolle that kissed her hand first," she announced with authority to the captivated ladies. "He is the greatest womanizer of the entire court; I know his reputation well from the other ladies I've talked to." Roxanna's hazel gaze narrowed on Laurel's face. "How many dances did you have with him last night, Laurel?" she asked, loading her words with all sorts of offensive meaning.

The blue-eyed girl's cheeks burned at the sudden insinuation, but their redness could be blamed on the brisk wind that was accompanying the coming evening. Struggling with this unfounded accusation on her honor, she tried to pin the girl's rudeness on jealousy—she had, after all, just received a fair amount of attention from some rather decent, eligible young men. It was honestly more than her share.

Taking all of this into consideration, Laurel replied calmly to Roxanna, "We danced twice, and he was always very chivalrous to me."

"He was so handsome though…" one of them commented, and that seemed to satisfy the animated group of girls who then went on to discuss the reputation of the soldiers of the King's Own. This evolved into a questioning of the characters of the women of the Queen's Riders. The blue-eyed girl was disgusted with this change of topic, but the others had plenty of stories and rumors to share so they did not even notice when she slipped away to find her own rooms off the Yamani ladies' hall.

Misuko and Kaida would have something much more interesting and a lot less crude to talk about, of that Laurel was sure.

* * *

The next day, Laurel decided to take up Neal's invitation to help in the infirmary. After spending time just talking with a few patients who were tired of lying in bed alone all day and excited just to have a visitor, Laurel was set to help a young boy with a broken leg fall asleep with a lullaby. When he finally drifted off, a healer tapped her on the shoulder wearing a grimace on her face. "Someone would like to meet you."

The girl nodded and followed the woman to a screened off corner. "See what the Count wants," was the only thing she said; without going through the curtain, the healer waved Laurel in and retreated. Still trying to rationalize the strangeness of the woman's actions, the blue-eyed girl entered slightly apprehensively. Expecting something terrible on the other side, her gaze fell only on a single bed containing a dangerously thin, old man with sparse grey hair and dull blue eyes. He lay there dressed in a nightshirt and embroidered velvet robe with a thick blanket tucked around him to ward off the chill in the hall. Seeing the large gold signet ring on his bony finger, Laurel curtseyed and said cautiously, "Good morning, milord."

He waved her over to the chair beside the bed before speaking, and even then the girl had to lean forward to hear him. "I heard you singing… Can you do something to bring an old man peace?"

She smiled and took his hand. "Of course." Laurel reached inside herself for her inner source of calm and drew out a thin thread of shining white gold. As she hummed the beginnings of a melody, it trickled out in arcs and valleys, dancing along with each cadence. Her Gift and her voice became one force as she eased the man's pain with a gentle song.

When he was sleeping peacefully, Laurel left his bedside and went to find and question the female healer who had led her there, but the girl found Neal first. "Lady Laurel," he said warmly with a small bow of his head. "Do you realize that you are our most popular helper now? Everyone keeps asking for you to come back around."

"I can hardly understand why, Sir Neal," she replied modestly but honestly. "I can only do so little for them… I do have a question for you though."

He grinned down at her, not daring to push his compliment. The girl was turning out to be as stubborn as Keladry of Mindelan in that department. "Ask away."

"What's wrong with the gentleman behind the screen?" she asked in a low voice as she gestured to the far side of the infirmary hall.

Neal's emerald eyes flicked swiftly towards the back, curtained-off corner. "That's nasty old Count Nelson. He has a wasting sickness that requires almost hourly treatments, so we had to move him to live in here. Most people would accept it and let the Dark God take them, but that stubborn man refuses to give up on his life. He won't let anyone near him either—his son visits just once a week for a few minutes." Leaning down to her and dropping his voice even lower, he added, "Us healers flip coins for who has to give him his next treatment. He still has a nasty temper and complains that we hurt him when we do it—that's ridiculous of course because we are just giving him pure energy to hold off the sickness so he should feel _better_ when he gets them."

Laurel turned her gaze back to the curtain. "Poor old man," she whispered to herself. To Neal, she said, "I'll be back tomorrow morning. Dom invited me to your picnic too. I hope that was okay."

The man's eyebrows shot up at the mention of his cousin's name. "Know that you're always welcome, milady, here and at any picnic. Now I'd better look like I'm doing some work before the Chief Healer catches me," he drawled.

The girl's brown furrowed in confusion. "Isn't your father the Chief Healer?"

"All the more reason I have to pretend to be productive," he replied with a wink. The corners of Laurel's lips twitched in a small smile at the ridiculousness of Yuki's husband.

"I'll see you tomorrow," the girl said before she curtseyed and left the healer to his work.


	6. Going Out

_Author's Note_: The plot is still building. Pay attention to words… They will be back to haunt ;)

As with all fanfiction writers, unfortunately, I went through a lazy stage. In my defense, the Olympics are rather distracting… Happily for all, I have most of the next three chapters written. I will tidy them and space them out a bit so updates do not get too sporadic again.

Thanks to all you readers, especially Shang Leopard, Evilstrawberry and oirishgoddess who reviewed the last chapter. I love the new Reader Traffic feature, don't you?

**Going Out**

Both draped in warm cloaks against the cool breeze that had wound its way through Corus and up the hill, Laurel and Amelie walked together toward one of the palace gates. A sloping path led them from an unassuming palace door, around the outskirts of the training yards where warriors of all kinds were honing their fighting skills, and to the large nobles' stables where the picnicking party would depart. The girls were eager for the outing and easily exchanged commentary on the changing weather of the season and the upcoming events of the social season as they made their way down. They rounded the corner to see horses all tacked up and waiting patiently as their high-spirited humans were busy chatting and settling the things for the picnic in sturdy saddlebags. Laurel froze instantly at the sight. Amelie continued to walk toward the group, not realizing that her companion had stopped.

Three of the party spotted them and came forward. Merric met the petite beauty halfway, but Dom and Iden moved past them and bowed to Laurel. "Milady," Dom said graciously, offering his hand as an escort.

"I can't go," Laurel whispered hoarsely, swallowing hard. Her gaze was directed past him, over his shoulder. She eyed the beasts that idly twitched their ears and touched noses amongst themselves.

Dom straightened fluidly as Iden inquired with concern, "Why not? Are you feeling ill?"

"Yes, I think I should go back to my room," the girl replied hastily, already half-turning to leave. With her breath now coming in pants, Laurel was in flight mode.

"Well, let's have our friendly resident healer look at you… Neal!" Dom called, not seeming to notice her panic. Iden, however, scrutinized her face.

Blue-eyes widened. "No! Don't—" she pleaded, feeling trapped as she looked around her for an escape route. "I just can't go with you today!"

Neal sauntered over wearing a grin, but one look at her with his healer-trained eyes changed his features to concern. "What's wrong, Lady Laurel? You seem anxious." Neal's fingertips burned with the green fire of his healing magic as they reached for her forehead.

Laurel shied away from his touch. "No! It's just—" She struggled internally for a moment and then gave up the charade under the stares of the three men. Her voice was semi-calm again when she said, "I can't ride a horse, so I won't be able to go with you. I'm sorry."

The green-eyed man released his magic. "That's all?" he asked incredulously. "Don't apologize for that—we can teach you sometime on a gentle, old gelding. And for today, you can ride with one of our fine, strong knights." He clapped a hand on Iden's back, offering him as her ride. Dom looked insulted.

"No! I just _cannot_ ride a horse!" she cried in response, her eyes watering on their own accord. Laurel fought her ridiculous display of emotion. Inside her head she was thinking fairly clearly—_Stop it you silly girl, you're making a scene!_ Yet, her body would not forget its emotional foolishness and tears spilled down her cheeks.

Kel and Yuki had made their way over to the outburst. "Is something the matter, Lady Laurel?" inquired the lady knight evenly with a questioning glance to Dom and then Neal. The latter shrugged a shoulder back.

"I regret to say that I cannot attend your picnic today, Lady Yuki. I'm terribly sorry for my delaying your party," the girl said with some semblance of control while looking studiously at the ground. Her hands shook at her sides.

Yuki gave her best effort at a comforting smile. "Don't worry about us_, Hitomi. You are always welcome to visit me_," she replied meaningfully in Yamani.

Iden picked up Laurel's trembling hand with his own steady one. "Would you excuse me from the picnic too, Lady Yuki? I would be honored to escort Lady Laurel back to the palace," he said, giving up an outing in favor of another, more chivalrous duty. He did not seem to mind doing it either.

"As you wish," the Yamani replied graciously. "You both shall be sorely missed today."

Kel and Yuki pulled Dom and Neal back to rejoin the rest of their waiting party as the blue-eyed girl faced her knight with a red face of shame. "May I?" he asked. She nodded, looking down and away from his concerned stare. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and they headed up the slope to the palace.

The walk was in silence, but as they entered the palace and neared the hall of her rooms, Iden suddenly spoke. "Would you like to take a stroll in the gardens?"

"Sure," was her quiet reply. She blindly allowed him to lead as she fought down waves of mixed up feelings. They were back outside by another door in mere moments.

They walked among fountains and flowerbeds, skirting the menagerie where the chattering of monkeys could be heard from their high enclosure. "Would you like me to show you the best hidden treasure of the palace gardens?" he offered enthusiastically.

"Sure," Laurel said half-heartedly. The pace swiftly quickened and her body responded without any conscious thought on her behalf. The girl was slowly pushing away the tight feeling in her throat and chest. The more they walked, getting farther from the stables, the better she felt.

She was led into a thicket on the edge of the park and along a small winding path. They had to walk one behind the other, so Iden led with her hand firmly grasped in his. Laurel would have thought that this path led nowhere and that the clump of trees was just that, a big forgotten clump. Yet, the path quickly opened into a clearing with a large rock grotto dominating the far side. Water trickled down levels of rock into the large pond at the floor of the great cavern. Dropping the hand of the knight, Laurel stepped forward and her blue eyes were enraptured for long minutes as she studied the glint of water over well-smoothed rock and green moss. Her gaze found spots where one could possibly climb up and inside to explore the shallow caves.

Iden spoke slowly when he addressed her again, his voice drifting into her consciousness from somewhere far away and behind her. "What was really wrong back there? Do horses scare you that much?"

The girl looked around to remember where she was and who she was with and then just sat on the thick green grass of the clearing, spreading her skirts and cloak around her. Laurel looked up at the knight and patted the ground beside her. "I have a story for you, Iden."

He settled himself next to the blue-eyed girl and looked at her interestedly. Laurel's eyes were trained on the grotto as she spoke. "When I was thirteen, I loved riding more than anything, even reading. I got a beautiful little gelding for my birthday, a coppery-bay, desert-stock pony with a jagged white stripe down his face and eyes that were always so worried looking, so expressive. I would ride him every day during my free time at the convent. One day a small group of us was out in the hills and something spooked him—I still don't even know what. He took off, and I couldn't stop him. I was determined to ride it out instead of throwing myself off and risking the loss of him. He just barreled across a plain way too fast, and we came across this old rotting wagon that had been broken and left there. With the tall grass, neither of us could have seen it in time to…" She trailed off.

"In time to stop?" he prodded gently.

The girl shook her head violently. "To stop? No, that was the problem. If he had turned or jumped it, we would have been fine—we'd always jump for fun. Instead, he stopped himself, and I flew over his head." Laurel looked up at her escort. Her finger touched the side of her nose and traced the faint jagged scar there all the way down her lips to her chin. "I landed on my face on the far side of that wagon to get this. I also broke my wrist, but bones are easier to set and much less visible…"

"It's not so bad," he reassured her. "I never even noticed it until you mentioned it." His eyes sweeped the line of the scar a few times as though he were trying to memorize it.

Laurel sighed loudly and looked away. "With the way the Daughters and other girls carried on, you'd think I was dying. If a noble girl's face is mussed up, how will she ever find a suitable husband?" she finished quietly.

"I see." That was all he could say to that. A young knight could not comment on the world of convents and betrothal-making without some measure of awkwardness; it was way out of his league.

The girl continued in a tone of hopelessness. "I've had all sorts of healers doing things to my face over the last few years to get rid of the scar—magic and herbal alike. They say this is as good as it will ever be." She waved vaguely at her own face.

Iden waited in silence until she met his eyes again. He asked squarely, "So you will let one bad fall stop you from riding again?"

She looked up suddenly, an almost harsh look on her face. "They killed my pony because he threw me, but it was _my_ fault for not controlling him properly and letting him run off. I don't deserve to ride and ruin another horse's life."

Iden was quiet again. The girl felt guilty for being so harsh, but her feelings on this had been developing—no, _festering_—for over three years. She was wholly responsible for the death of an innocent, and the past few years had done little to ease that pain. With a deep breath to steady her, Laurel decided to change the subject for both of them. She looked sideways at the knight. "Why did you not ask me to dance at the ball? You were with all the others, and I did notice you looking at me."

He cleared his throat in embarrassment. "I'm really quite a terrible dancer, Lady Laurel," he admitted. The girl's laughter rang out in the bosquet, and dark stories were forgotten for the moment.

* * *

The next few weeks passed in a blur for Laurel as the last warm afternoons of a mild autumn turned into the chilly winds of a fast-approaching winter. Each day was full of social calls and each evening, parties of every sort. She, Mitsuko, and Kaida had become a fixture in Yuki's small get-togethers while other ladies would come and go as the young knights invited them. From parties in their apartments to outdoor walks and picnics where a carriage was always presented without comment for the three Yamanis and Laurel, the blue-eyed girl had found a group of friends away from the convent girls (although little Amelie had also found a place by Merric's side). The bigger events every other week or so that were held in the ballrooms required a Lalasa creation which always turned out magnificent, and Laurel was rarely without a friendly dance partner.

Tucked in between these bigger and grander occasions, the blue-eyed girl would steal away to the infirmary. Neal allowed her to sing, read aloud, and even help relax the long-term patients of the ward, and she made many new friends in the quiet of infirmary. No one grand or with social connections to be utilized, just people who wanted some comfort. Even mean old Count Nelson simply wanted a song or two from her to fall asleep. It was the same with her babysitting the Queenscove twins or reading in one of the libraries: Laurel could just be herself, not just a girl in the running for a betrothal contract. She relished these moments.

Every once in awhile she would find herself somehow alone with Sir Iden of Vikison Lane. He would show up at the library when she was there and they would recommend books to each other. Sometimes he would invite her to stroll around the gardens afterward. Nothing compromising happened—the girl knew to always stay in public places and leave doors open—but she supposed that they might be technically courting in some people's eyes. She questioned if she should be sharing her confidences with him; like the story about her horse, the girl was always telling him things that she discussed with no one else. He seemed to find her point of view in all situations somewhat amusing, though he never mocked her. Laurel wondered if she sounded hopelessly naïve to this man who was almost four years older than her and a seasoned warrior to boot.

On one such occasion, a leisurely turn about the Yamani gardens that had recently been developed, they had begun to discuss their thoughts on what love was like. This had not come from any romantic context, but rather a conversation on a novel that Iden had given the girl to read. Laurel had dismissed it as another silly, unrealistic romance, and the knight had tried to argue that it had deeper meaning.

"He's a fool," the blue-eyed girl stated for about the tenth time in the last five minutes. They were walking in step together and Laurel's gloved hand was tucked into the crook of the knight's arm on another chilly afternoon. "No decent, self-respecting man who would ruin his fief's finances and his family's honor all for the hand of a pretty girl he met just once. He wasn't even very well-mannered during that one meeting—why should _she_ even like _him_?"

Iden had a small smile on his face as he tried to counter her argument. "Once I was told that you like a person for their qualities, but you love a person for their faults. Maybe it was just the fact that he was willing to give up everything, all the social conventions, to be with her that meant something."

Laurel pulled her hand away and glided over to a short Yamani maple tree to run her fingers over its reddish pointed leaves as she spoke. "A 'fault' is that you are a little messy. What he has is a serious character flaw. Their lives and those of their families are ruined by their hasty actions. If they really wanted to be together, they should have taken the time to speak to their parents and try to rearrange things. And then if that didn't work, they should have just dealt with it. The fate of so many people should not be dictated by the feelings of two childish people."

Standing closely behind the girl, the young knight shook his head swiftly in disagreement, but he wore a wide grin on his face. Laurel could instinctively feel both through the space between them. "Lady Laurel of Fury's Valley, _you_ are no romantic. What about the endless suffering that would be caused by their denied passions?"

The blue-eyed girl visibly tensed as she became fully aware of his close presence but refused to look back at him. She rubbed a red-brown leaf between two fingers. "I would rather look for something that lasts. Passion, beauty, physical prowess—those fade with time; everyone knows it even if they choose not to admit it. Courtesy and compassion—they are with you to the end. If he had proved that the well-being of others was more important than his own _passions_, he would have been worthy." Laurel spun to face his hazel gaze, her blue eyes glinting mischievously. "And that's why your book is nothing but court trash!"

She adjusted her cloak on her shoulders and walked off down the path to the menagerie. Iden, still processing her speech, had to take a few large steps to catch up.


	7. A Sudden Proposal

_Author's Note: _Things are starting to fall into place now ;)

Thanks to reviewers twilight's reflection, Shang Leopard, oirishgoddess, and aRoseheartP and all you other anonymous readers!

**A Sudden Proposal**

"_Shushuken practice again_?" Laurel inquired of her roommate. The blue-eyed girl was curled up in a plush armchair by the fireplace with an open book in her lap. While she had been lost in the story, the Yamani had been at her vanity pinning up her hair and cleaning the razor sharp blades of her fan.

Mitsuko turned around from her current place by the door with a long red cloak already in her hands and nodded. "_You are welcome to join…"_ she offered weakly though that blank face of hers did not show the slightest hint of optimism.

With a grin Laurel replied, "_No thanks. Please send my regards to everyone_." The Tortallan had only watched one other session of the fan-dancing, but she knew it was not a hobby she wanted to take up. It was also frustrating how many times Yuki, Kel, and even the Queen had tried to get her to participate—as if she would want to fight with fans or her own bare hands! It was best to avoid them altogether when they were in a sporting mood.

Ducking her head in acceptance, the Yamani lady left the room, silently closing the door behind her and leaving her roommate alone. Finally some alone time, quiet time. For a quiet girl like Laurel of Fury's Valley, this was the best time, these stolen moments where she had nowhere else to be. At the palace she felt obligated to be doing things all day, even more so than at the convent where she had classes and practice to do. But that was the reason for which she was at court: to see and be seen. Else wise, how could she catch someone's eye for a betrothal contract?

Whoever thought ladies did nothing all day was sorely mistaken. The girl was forever splitting time between old friends and new friends, parties and social calls, working in the infirmary, sewing, or reading to keep up with Iden's list of recommendations. When she was truly alone in the silence of her room, she could really _think_.

And then a knock on her door interrupted her looming thoughts. With an internal groan, Laurel untucked her legs from under her and slid bare feet into waiting slippers. She stepped away from the warming glow of the fire to react to this unexpected visitor's summons.

Blue eyes met familiar hazel ones as the door swung open, and an unavoidable smile of delight answered the eager grin on the young knight's face. "I was just working on your book," she told him.

Iden let out a short chuckle. "I hope it's better than the last one?" he said questioningly.

"Much," she assured him. Then, after an awkward pause, she frowned. "Did we have a meeting today? I didn't remember anything…"

"No, not at all," he said, strangely enthusiastic. "My sparring partner just canceled on me, and I was wondering if you were up for some exercise this morning."

"Exercise?" A brow furrowed suspiciously between narrowed blue eyes. She earnestly hoped this was not a ploy to get her to ride a horse again.

"A walk," he told her. Then a hand came from around his back and he pulled out a long strip of cloth. "And a surprise." The glint in his eyes was different than anything the girl had seen from him before. What did it mean?

A moment of hesitation gave Laurel time to consider. What kind of surprise could he have up his sleeve for her? She had no legitimate excuse to say no since this was a free morning. That fact coupled with curiosity tipped the scales in his favor. "Alright," she told him with a measure of caution in her voice. "Let me get my cloak."

She turned to her wardrobe to fetch her cloak, securing it over her shoulders and fixing the clasp easily. Before she could move an inch to return to the door, however, arms snaked around her from behind, and Iden's gentle hands were fastening the blindfold over her eyes. "No peeking," he whispered close to her ear. His sudden closeness was unnerving, and Laurel almost wanted to back out of the outing altogether; he had never acted this eager before.

But this was only _Iden_… He could be trusted. The girl submitted to his attentions and took his arm so he could lead her out the door. "Make sure it locks," she told him. With that they were off. A set of blue eyes was hidden under fabric, so she had to trust him to lead her through the corridors of the palace.

He was unusually quiet as they walked; the young knight constantly had some odd topic to discuss, and the absence of his teasing questions made the girl nervous. A sudden chill in the air said that they had walked outside. Laurel tucked both of her hands into the crook of his arm for warmth since she had forgotten to put on gloves. "Is it much farther?" she asked for reasons of both mental and physical comfort.

"Shhh," Iden responded casually. A minute later, he rearranged their hold by taking one of her hands firmly in his own and walking ahead. The girl had to trail along behind him.

They reached their destination a short time later and halted. Laurel stood perfectly still as the knight's warm hand slipped from her grip and moved to untie her blindfold. Able to see again, she took in her surroundings—another bosquet in the palace gardens. She had never been here before, but it did not seem particularly special like the grotto had been. This one was a circular space with half the diameter taken up by the crescent of a terraced fountain, a stepped wall of water falling from one level to another to reach the next shallow pool below it. In a strange asymmetrical arrangement uncharacteristic of the other parts of the garden, there was an enclosed hexagonal gazebo off to the left. With a puzzled glance shot back at Iden, it was to this small building that Laurel headed, figuring that the surprise was inside.

But the knight pulled her to a halt with one hand that grabbed hers from behind. She spun to face him with a teasing smile on her face, about to comment on his cruelty for keeping her from a surprise. A book? A picnic lunch? What could he have planned?

Iden stepped forward, standing too close again. Laurel's grin faded when his free hand went to her face where gentle fingertips brushed along her jaw line and raised her chin. She turned her face slowly out of his touch in discouragement. Undaunted, the backs of his fingers stroked her exposed cheek, so the girl looked up at him with incomprehension and uncertainty in her eyes. A forefinger moved to the space between her eyebrows and traced its way down the side of her nose, over the bumps of her lips and chin, tracing the scar that she had revealed to him there. Then, Iden slowly leaned down, bringing his lips toward hers.

At the last moment, Laurel turned her head to the side, and his lips, unconcerned with the change of destination, touched her cheek. He did not pull away in defeat; instead, he planted a line of kisses along her cheekbone. The girl was the one to break their contact with a sigh.

"No, Iden, I don't think we should…" she trailed off with her eyes closed in disbelief. Never would she have imagined that the planned 'surprise' would be some sort of romantic tryst at a hidden gazebo. Nothing that they had ever done or said to each other would have suggested it. She felt foolish and almost… betrayed. After all, she had told him her thoughts on love and marriage, how she thought young love was frivolous and knew her parents would arrange an honorable match. Did Iden think she would just go along with his plan at seduction? How could he have assumed—?

His hands came back up to stroke her wavy, warm brown hair and cup her cheek. "Then don't think about it, Laurel," he told her huskily with bluish-green eyes boring into her. "Just _do_ for once."

With those words, the blue-eyed girl abruptly stepped away from him, careful to keep her hands to herself lest she gave the young knight any more ideas. A fire of equal parts disillusionment and disappointment burned behind her crystal glare. "I'm not _that_ kind of girl!" She stalked away from him angrily. He had constantly teased her for having no passion, but at least she had the brains to control herself in this irresponsible situation!

The girl immediately spotted the trail out of the bosquet, a small, winding path through tall, thick hedges much like the ones on the way to the grotto. When she heard the young knight's long following footsteps, she started to run with her dark cloak dramatically billowing out behind her. It did not matter that Iden would easily be able to catch her; Laurel just needed to get away from him—there was no telling what was going on in that _passionate_ head of his… With adrenaline now coursing through her veins, anger welled up in her from a depth she had never known before.

"I'm sorry, Laurel," he called from behind; the knight only had to jog quickly to keep up with her. "I didn't mean anything! No… I did mean something. I just want to be with you—is that a crime?"

"Leave me alone!" the girl practically screeched back. "Don't follow me!"

"Laurel! After everything—" he began, voice sounding strained now. Maybe he was finally realizing that he was losing her. _No,_ she corrected herself mentally, he had lost her the moment he had betrayed her trust in that clearing back there.

"You have no right to chase me! I don't want to see you again!" She kept running, through the main gardens now. They were deserted during the lunch hour where everyone was at mess. Eventually, Laurel realized that she no longer heard Iden's boots behind her; he must have decided to give in and leave her alone. She snuck a peek back to confirm and then slowed to a fast walk that took her back to her rooms.

The girl was breathing heavily from exertion and emotion as she dropped herself to the floor safely on the inside of her door. Had all of that really happened? Less than an hour before, Laurel had been reading peacefully on that chair by the fire and now she had just lost her closest friend at the palace. She had trusted a person with her most intimate thoughts—he had been so easy to talk to!—and he had turned that trust into some sort of move on her.

Anger faded as her breathing slowed, and the girl began to see another side of the incident in the gardens. Maybe _she_ had been the one leading him on. Laurel had let him take her for walks or meet her in the library alone, so maybe she had given him the impression that she wanted to be courting. Maybe when she spoke about love being for fools, he took that as a convent girl saying one thing while meaning another—maybe meaning that he could touch her, kiss her because they were fools in love…

Laurel shook her head. She knew that she had never hinted at having a future with him. No matter what Iden may have construed from her actions, the girl had never meant to become romantically involved with him or anyone. She had flat out said that she did not believe in love and that marriage was not her decision, thus he never had a hope for winning either love or marriage from her.

But maybe that was not his intention. At the chosen spot for her 'surprise,' there was that empty gazebo there, the likely witness to many a passionate moment. Laurel buried her head in her hands. The girl did not want to think about sex. The very idea of it was so far removed from her life… Apparently, that was not so for a certain young knight.

This guessing game was getting her no where. Laurel stood determinedly and shook herself. The only thing to do was stay away from Iden of Vikison Lane. That way, nothing like this could happen again.

-

A week later, Laurel came into her rooms still wrapped in her thick fur cloak and her cheeks were flushed from her cold stroll in the gardens with Yuki, Mitsuko, Kaida, and Kel; she had been avoiding Iden's (and any other impressionable young men's) company by spending more time with her _female_ friends. Snow had yet to fall, but a certain crispness was in the air as a chilly wind blew the dark rolling clouds of a coming storm towards Corus.

She saw a letter lying on the small table by the door, propped up against a small vase of dried flowers that left a faint scent in the air. The girl saw her name scrawled across the front and picked it up. The folded paper was tucked under her arm as she removed her winter gloves and cape, tossing both across her bed. She then strode over to the fireplace and stirred the coals up again with an iron poker. Laurel grabbed two undersized logs from the small pile of wood in its metal stand to bring up the flames again. Wrinkling her nose at the smoky smell that came from wood not fully dry, she returned to the vase and grabbed a few sprigs of dried herbs to toss on top for a fresher scent.

Now that the room was slowly warming up, the blue-eyed girl settled herself on one of the Yamani cushions at the low table and scanned the handwriting on the outside of the letter. Unmistakably it was her mother's, something that Laurel had not seen in a long while. She had last been with her mother three years ago when the stern woman had traveled to the convent after the riding accident to inspect the damages to the girl's face. Since then, only a letter at Midwinter accompanied by new dress and a trinket or two was the sole means of communication between a daughter and her parents.

Turning over the envelope confirmed this; the red wax seal had been pressed with her family's crest, a mountain surrounded by four medicine balls to symbolize the placement of Fury's Valley and the noble family's long line of healers. She opened the letter and again found her mother's flourished handwriting. Tilting the letter toward the fire since the light from the windows had been dulled by the overcast afternoon sky, she began to read.

_Fief Fury's Valley_

_18 November_

_Dearest daughter Laurel,_

_Your family hopes that you have been making profitable use of your time at the palace. You know how important it is to make appropriate networks and represent your father's name well. In saying that, I certainly hope that you have used your allowance to purchase suitable gowns in the latest fashions and not for those musty old books that you insist on dragging around._

_You must have been doing something right since your father received a messenger from fief Gethin. They are very interested in you for their son Jedrek. You seem to have charmed his grandfather, the old Count Nelson, and he insists on the match. Your father is in negotiations for the betrothal contract, but I have no doubt that all will go through smoothly. I hear that Sir Jedrek will be returning from the border for Midwinter. Your father will soon send the formal announcement to the king and then will travel to the palace for Midwinter, and you will be married before the year is out._

_I don't know how you managed this one, Laurel—no doubt they were much interested in our wealth—but this family is very high up in the book of Gold and will make your brothers much more desirable. With this over, I may come to court next season to find three brides for them and meet my first grandchild._

_Affectionately,_

_Your Mother_

Betrothed already? To the Count's grandson? Her head swam and she was glad to already be sitting down. Laurel found the name of her future husband again: Jedrek of Gethin. She would soon be Laurel of Gethin. That did not have the same familiar ring to it as Fury's Valley when she said it aloud. She read the letter fully again. At the last sentence, her throat closed tightly. The next time her mother saw her, she would be expected to have a child. The letter slipped from her hand to float to the table. Gripping the smooth wooden edges until her knuckles turned white, the girl fought to breathe normally. This was only what was going to happen eventually. It had just happened a little sooner than expected.

Laurel had obviously never met Jedrek nor heard of him, but his family's name seemed to be respectable enough. The girl never would have guessed that her reading and singing to an old man would bring about her marriage, but stranger things had created family alliances. It was just odd that it was so fast—a Midwinter wedding in her first season at court.

The faces of her friends flitted past her mind's eye. The convent girls would be jealous that she was the first to marry from their year; no one would have expected that, especially Roxanna. She would no longer be living with Mitsuko in the Yamani wing. Her future husband and she would have a suite in the same wing as Yuki and Neal. Kel and the other knights would still be around, the girl supposed. Perhaps they were friends of Jedrek, and maybe they would even move to that same hall as they settled their marriages. Sergeant Dom would be disappointed that she was taken; she smiled at that.

She then saw Iden's face… What would he think? They had not spoken since the 'surprise' spat in the gardens, but the girl knew for certain that he would feel he had a personal stake in this. It was bound to be tense when he found out.

Laurel shook herself out of thought, remembering suddenly that she had somewhere to be. She hung her cloak on its peg and changed her thick shoes for slippers more appropriate for the indoors. Gathering a large covered basket, the girl left her rooms and strode down the halls towards the Ladies' Wing.


	8. Long Days

_Author's Note_: This term has been ridiculous intellectually and emotionally, but I have decided to take a break and let Laurel run my mind for awhile.

I also feel the need to explain myself. First of all, I don't want to say that Laurel is not like the other court ladies because she most definitely is. Part of my reason for writing this story was to try to humanize the 'silly court girls' that countless pieces on this website generalize and, for the most part, disdain. I wanted to create a character that was a member of this group as well as someone in her own right. Laurel was trained to think a certain way about who she is and will be, but she will eventually test the bounds of her 'lot in life,' so to speak. In addition, I want to say that there is nothing wrong with choosing to be a good, respectable lady. Not everyone wants to fight or gain power, and they should still be respected because they are equally important human beings. I sincerely hope that Laurel will be able to redeem herself in the future for all these doubting reviewers ;)

I do fully admit that even she (and I, as her writer) can fall prey to clichéd feelings once in awhile, but I will strive to maintain some portion of the originality I have come to expect from myself as this story continues. I welcome _all_ reviews to my work, and I hope that they are always entirely honest because one cannot learn from her mistakes if no one bothers to point them out.

Above all, I don't plan on giving up on Laurel anytime soon, and I hope that all of you, the readers of _Hitomi_, will not either. There is much more to come, and perhaps this court lady will manage to win you over by the end :)

**Long Days **

The girl made her way to Lady Lindley's room for a sewing circle with some of the convent girls. She was late and entered the crossfire of gossip in progress. Greetings were quickly exchanged, and she settled into a free chair and pulled out some work to do. The talk was, as usual, about various girls' prospects—"I saw Cara leave with that dark Bazhir knight at Lady Eglantine's party last night."

"But she went to the gardens with that blond soldier in the Own the week before. She is certainly getting around…" came a malicious reply.

Laurel, tactfully staying out of this chitchat, tried not to think about what these girls would soon be saying about her and her betrothed. She concentrated instead on making the nightclothes for Yuki's twins as a Midwinter's gift.

"Well, I have something worse," said a pale, raven-haired lady with a pert grin. "I saw _Keladry of Mindelan_ tucked away in a corner with that Domitan of Masbolle! Can you imagine that handsome sergeant being interested in _her_?"

Laurel almost said something to that—she knew firsthand that those two were just good friends, comrades—but she did not feel up to arguing right now. Her concentration was fixed on embroidering a bird when she was disrupted by Alisonne's ringing address, "Laurel, you spend a lot time with the Lady Knight. Does she have you running around in men's clothes with a sword in hand yet?" Some of the girls tittered at that.

The blue-eyed girl looked up in frustration since had been putting up with comments like this for far too long; Kel was a very good person, if a little bit too _active_ for Laurel's personal taste. Nonetheless, the lady knight did not deserve this kind of ridicule from girls who had never faced Scanrans or Immortals who wanted to hurt their people. They romanticized the work of the male knights, but mocked Kel for doing the same work!

"No, Alisonne," she replied spitefully, a spark of anger flashing white fire in her eyes. "I gave up on that because I don't look very good in breeches. I have far too many curves to pass as a _boy_." She instantly regretted it. It was too mean. Once, one of the Daughters had thought Alisonne was a boy who snuck into the convent in a dress and bonnet to admire the ladies inside; she was tall and lanky with a small chest, and it had been an honest mistake. Yet the girl still took any reference to it very badly.

The room was silent for a few moments until Roxanna changed the subject loudly: "Why are all the best men already taken? We've been here for months already and not one of us has had an offer! Papa hasn't even come by to see me yet." A few girls mumbled sympathies to that.

Lady Lindley, with a wicked grin on her face, announced to the room, "Don't forget though—border guard changes in two weeks. That means more knights and soldiers for the Midwinter parties!"

Abruptly, Laurel began collecting her things, tucking loose strings and half-finished pieces into her sewing bag. She did not have to put up with this foolishness. There were plenty of other people in the palace that had other things to talk about than men and marriage! She stormed out of the gathering without a word.

In the hallway, she heard rustling skirts behind her and turned to see that Amelie had hastily left with her. "Are you all right, Laurel?" she asked timidly. "You usually don't… snap like that, and Alisonne meant no harm. Lady Kel has always been kind to me… Should I have said something too?"

"I know, Amelie, don't worry about that. I just got some news… I was distracted and the conversation just rubbed me the wrong way. But that's no excuse for rudeness: I'll have to apologize to her later." Looking around the empty corridor in which they stood, Laurel impulsively pulled the petite girl into a window alcove for privacy. "I've just been betrothed," she confided in a low voice.

"Oh, did Iden ask you?" the dark-eyed girl immediately asked excitedly.

Laurel started at the name. It seemed that they _had_ been too noticeable after all in their friendship, and everyone had thus made the wrong assumptions. _Well, at least wrong on my side of the relationship_, the girl thought to herself. She would need to seriously reexamine her behavior at the palace. "No," she said flatly. "It's a knight not at court yet, Jedrek of Gethin. My parents are arranging it, and I just got the letter."

Amelie frowned. "I've heard that name before, but I can't remember where. Is Gethin near the coast?"

"I really have no idea." The blue-eyed girl looked down a beat, working up her courage for a request. "Do you think you could ask around for me—Roxanna, Alisonne, Lindley, the usual gossipmongers. I don't think they'll share details with me anytime soon, after that..." She gestured back down the Ladies' Hall towards Lady Lindley's room. "And don't tell anyone about this yet, please—discretion at all costs."

"Of course! You can trust me." Amelie smiled brightly and looked up at her. "Aren't you excited? You're the first of our year!"

Laurel smiled weakly, though she did not really feel anything of the sort at the moment. "Of course. It's a dream come true."

* * *

Late that night, Mitsuko returned from a late dinner party hosted by Yuki. She entered quietly to avoid waking her roommate, but the girl was still awake curled in her chair wearing a nightgown and watching the fire die down. Laurel had declined her invite to the same event, feeling too overwhelmed to converse civilly with friends after learning the big news. Not that she was extremely upset or anything… It was just a lot to process in only one afternoon.

Seeing that Laurel was not in fact sleeping, the Yamani spoke with her customary controlled enthusiasm. "_I have news: Kaida and I have been asked to join Princess Shinko's ladies-in-waiting_."

Laurel's head snapped up and she smiled genuinely. "That _is_ great news. Congratulations!"

Mitsuko continued as she exchanged her day slippers for warmer and more comfortable ones at the foot of her bed. "_Also, Sakura is returning to the Islands in a few days. She had Shinko to appeal to the Emperor on her behalf_."

"_Well, she was never truly happy here_," the blue-eyed girl acknowledged.

"_She is glad to be going home, but I wonder what the Emperor will do…"_ the Yamani trailed off, picking up her nightclothes and hugging them to her chest absentmindedly. She turned back to her friend with a more serious tone to her voice. "_There is one other thing, Hitomi. Kaida and I will be moving to rooms nearer the princess and since Sakura is leaving with Lady Jin, the hall will be emptied. You may be moving to another hall."_

Laurel cut her off in Common. "Don't worry about it at all. I would have been leaving soon enough." She could not think of the more polite formulaic phrases of the Yamani language while her head was stuffed from more weighty thoughts. "I have news for you too—I have been betrothed. My mother sent word by letter." She waved the paper that she was holding and that had been in her hand the entire afternoon.

The corners of Mitsuko's eyes crinkled. "That is good news, isn't it?" she asked in elegantly accented Common.

"Yes," the blue-eyed girl replied, "Just _unexpected_ good news." She stared off into the fire again, and her roommate slipped into the privy to change and ready herself for bed.

Laurel broke up her reverie a few moments later and crossed over to her bed. She laid the letter on top of her vanity and slipped under her blankets to ward off the chill. When Mitsuko emerged from the next room, she sat up. "Please keep this between us for now, Mitsuko. I would rather wait for the official announcement in case something falls through… I've never met him, you know?"

The Yamani nodded. "_As you wish, Hitomi_." She climbed into her bed and blew out the last candle. The dim glow of the fireplace on the far side of the room was the only light as Laurel tried to will herself to sleep.

It was not working. She had been thinking hard all afternoon, but still her mind ran in frantic circles of nervousness and reassurance without ever finding harmony. The inevitability of the event did not make it any less daunting. Laurel had always _known_ she would marry, probably rather young, to a man she did not know very well. But knowing it and living it were two different things.

First of all, she had never expected to be the first of her year to be betrothed; that credit usually went to a prettier girl, a girl higher up in the Books of Nobility. But then she should be happy to win such an honor. That was what really bothered her: Laurel did not understand why her betrothal now felt like a death sentence.

In the last few hours, the girl had caught herself thinking how nice it would have been if she had met someone at the palace who had found her interesting enough to go to her parents with an offer. Someone she knew, someone she had conversed with, someone who was a friend before a fiancé. That would have been nice—the kind of scenario found in those silly books that Iden had always lent her.

Laurel sucked in a quick breath at that realization—this doubt for her impending marriage was all because of Iden! He had poisoned her mind with his court trash novels and then confused her with that moment in the gardens. It was because of Iden that she was wavering.

The blue-eyed girl had always been levelheaded about this sort of thing; when the other girls were oo-ing and ah-ing over Dom or any other relatively handsome man at court, she had not wasted her time imagining what being Lady Laurel of Masbolle would feel like. She had put their gossiping into the column of ridiculousness and continued to expect the expected for her life, one with no guarantee of romance. Now, her expectations had become beyond reasonable, and she was left feeling startled by what she had before been calmly anticipating her entire life.

She resolved never see that particular knight again, privately or publicly. With her a promised woman, she could not let him or anyone else believe that there was or could be something between them. To do less would cause her terrible disgrace.

In addition, she resolved to learn what she could about Jedrek of Gethin. Amelie was asking around, and she would too. If fact, her best source for information was trapped in a bed in the infirmary: the very Count Nelson who had brought about this betrothal in the first place. She would concentrate on getting to know her future husband so that maybe their union wouldn't seem such a shock. Jedrek did not have to be a total stranger; he might even turn out to be a friend.

Having decided to take charge of her life again, Laurel was able to fall asleep at last.

* * *

Laurel sent word to Amelie to meet for lunch the next day. She got a plate of food and sat at a table for two in the corner of the noble's mess. The girl was anxious, but did not outwardly manifest it; her hands rested folded in her lap and her food remained untouched.

Only five minutes passed before the dark-haired beauty arrived with a tray in hand. She sat with a smile and Laurel leaned forward expectantly.

"I got a little information on Jedrek of Gethin," the girl began.

"Don't say his name!" Laurel hissed nervously, causing Amelie to blink in surprise. "Call him…" she glanced down at her plate, "_Beef_."

Nodding, the girl continued, "I was talking to Lady Margarry of Cavall—she's betrothed to Sir Owen—and she says that _Beef_ was stationed at Fort Steadfast during the war. He's a few years older than Owen's group of friends, probably around twenty-seven or twenty-eight. She knew about him because her father was a commander and had assigned him some soldiers to go scout the land around the fort. They go missing for two whole days, and then _Beef_ returns alone covered in blood saying that the Scanrans got the others—five trained scouts that let the enemy find them first? It didn't make any sense."

Brow furrowed, the blue-eyed lady could only say, "Strange…"

"I knew I had heard about him before—I remember my brother writing to me about that incident in a letter," Amelie commented.

Laurel looked up at the girl again. "Your brother? Was he in the War?"

"He's a knight, too. Fabian," she answered with a warm, affectionate smile. "He's coming down for Midwinter—I haven't seen him in years, but we always write."

The blue-eyed girl replied half-heartedly, "That's nice. I don't really keep in touch with my brothers."

"Fabian, me and my little sister, we're the best of friends. I can't wait until we're all at court together," Amelie bubbled out.

Her sweetness has no bounds, the blue-eyed girl thought to herself. Laurel sighed, but did not respond. How nice it would be to have a close-knit family life that.

"I could ask Merric about Beef," Amelie suggested gently, sensing the other lady's sour mood.

Laurel shook her head. "No, the fewer people that know right now, the better. And since he is friends with Iden, he would be the worst one to tell anything to."

The information exchange done, they spoke of pleasanter topics as Laurel picked at her food. After lunch, the two ladies parted amicably in the hallway, and Laurel headed to the infirmary. Only a hallway away from the infirmary door, Iden came around the corner in front of her. "How are you?" he asked courteously with a bob of his head without the least hint of surprise in his face.

She cursed him silently—how did he always manage to bump into her like this? It was like he was tracking her down for sport. Yet, despite her recent resolution to avoid him, she could not be rude to his face. "I'm well, very busy. How are you?" the girl returned composedly.

"I've been feeling sorry, Laurel…" he began sheepishly.

"Oh," she said simply, wondering how she could make a graceful escape.

"Can I make it up to you? A walk?" he offered, meeting her eyes unflinchingly. He looked awkward for once as though his easy charm was tempered with genuine shame.

"I'm on my way to the infirmary to do some work. Just forget what happened, and don't think about it anymore." Laurel brushed past him and did not look back.

Entering the infirmary alone, a male healing assistant recognized her immediately. "Count Nelson is sleeping now. He's not been doing well lately; the treatments knock him out before you can even get here." Without more ado he hurried off, carrying a stack of clean linens in his arms.

Nodding but slightly disappointed inside, Laurel spotted across the room a middle-aged healer with her grey-blonde hair in a tight bun. As one of the healers that had worked at the palace the longest, she might know some things about a certain long-tem patient. The girl approached the woman where she was folding bed sheets. The girl took up the opposite end of one with a smile and helped the woman fold it. Trying to make it seem like casual conversation, she said, "I hear that Count Nelson is getting worse by the day. Has anyone else been in to see the poor man?"

With a low chuckle, the healer shook her head. "Only that odd son of his on regular visits. I can't imagine he has many friends that would want to see him."

"Why?" Laurel asked innocently. "What did he do?"

"Well, he had a great military career for old King Roald—wanted to be in his cabinet of advisors, but then Jonathon took over and brought in all fresh leaders, younger ones, his friends mostly. Nelson hid out at his estates for awhile and laid low. Some think it might have driven him a little crazy. His only son, the one that visits, was sent to train for knighthood, fought in some small things, but ultimately lost his right arm and had to ride a desk for the rest of his life. But he's devoted to his father, comes in every week to see him."

"And does he have grandchildren to visit him too?" she asked, trying to seem nonchalant. To think she was driven to investigating her own betrothed like this!

The healer smirked a moment at a thought. "Yes, a son who is a knight as well. See, Greer of Gethin, Nelson's son, married his own cousin to keep the bloodlines more contained, and you know that close marriages usually result in..." the healer waved her hands around her head to imply 'crazy.' "Jedrek is his name and some unusual things have happened around him, ever since he was a page here."

"Things like…" Laurel prompted, attempting to sound only mildly curious as she laid another sheet on the top of a neat stack.

"You know, he was often in trouble for fighting, more so than the other boys. He caused trouble in the City as well—getting in tavern brawls and being brought back to the palace by the Provost's Guard. He was accused of killing two commoners at one point, but I think the charges were waived by a technicality. I remember seeing him in here quite a few times… A few servant girls came in too saying their bruises were by his hand, but again nothing was ever proven. It just seemed like he wasn't all the way put together, that boy."

Laurel's heart sank with each word. A fighter, a _killer,_ a _rapist_? It was one thing to kill an enemy in battle, but quite another to look for trouble in the Lower City. Maybe it was self-defense, she reasoned. Maybe he could not choose to walk away. And servant girls could lie or be confused. Maybe the woman was exaggerating.

They finished the last sheet and the blue-eyed girl excused herself. She had a party that evening to get ready for. Regardless of news, a court lady's day was never done.


	9. Center of Attention

**Center of Attention**

Laurel was applying kohl to her eyes when a knock sounded at the door. Mitsuko, already dressed and ready, answered it. The blue-eyed girl watched through her mirror as Amelie walked in and exchanged greetings with the Yamani before stepping over to Laurel's side. In a quiet voice, she said, "Another something about _Beef_. I learned from Lindley that his fief is the next one over from hers. Gethin has had a bad harvest or two due to some crop disease and needed a little financial help. Lindley's father was going to give them a loan to buy fresh seed for next year, but they just cancelled it this past week. She was very excited because she gets more money for her Midwinter gown now."

Brushing face powder lightly on her cheeks, Laurel's face did not betray her alarm as she put everything together. A good sum of money would be in her dowry, so there was no longer a need for a loan. The betrothal was obviously beneficial for both families—money on one hand and prestige on the other. She set the brush down on her vanity calmly. "Thank you, Amelie. Excellent work."

Amelie made eye contact with her in the mirror and gave a small smile. "Lady Lindley has seen him too—it was years ago, but she said he was good on the eyes." Laurel inwardly scoffed at the idea that looks were important in an arranged betrothal, but convent girls will be convent girls. The dark beauty added, "I've asked pretty much all of the ladies I know. Maybe if you told Neal he would have something more to add."

"Not yet," Laurel replied quickly. "My father should arrive in the next week or so for the announcement, and everyone can know then."

"As you wish," the small girl promised. With a few final touches, they left with Mitsuko and Kaida to make their way to a small ballroom for the Duchess Cythera of Naxen's invite-only party that took place every year in the late fall. Every young, _single_ person that lived in the palace was there. It was 'the party where betrothals are made,' notorious for its success rate in that particular field.

They were hardly in the door before a squire showed up to ask the blue-eyed girl to dance. Always willing to dance, she excused herself from her friends and left on his arm. The other three quickly spotted their friends in a group near the wall and moved to join them.

Iden had watched the foursome enter and had seen when Laurel broke away immediately. He barely noticed when the ladies joined the group because he was intently watching Laurel spin around the room in another man's arms.

Amelie was engaged in a quiet conversation with Merric, innocently catching him up on the gossip of her friends. "And the first of our year to be betrothed is Lady Laurel! She really shouldn't be at this party, but she just found out yesterday after she had already accepted the invitation, and it would have been rude to back out."

Kel's sensitive ears picked up the comments and she immediately turned away from Dom and the Yamani ladies to inquire, "Laurel is betrothed?"

Merric restated what Amelie had told him to the group. Their reactions were varied. Mitsuko had already known, and Kaida was able to keep her Yamani composure. Kel gave a small smile, happy for the nice girl she had come to know over the past few weeks. Dom was the one who asked, "And who is the lucky man?"

Amelie was now embarrassed at the way the news had spread. "I don't think I should say… I shouldn't have let this slip in the first place. Please don't tell Laurel I told you all—I promised I wouldn't say anything until the official announcement was made." The members of the small group made their promises, but one of the knights had slipped away before he had to.

Laurel was talking to Squire Alan who had found her for a dance after the first squire. After the song had ended, they had moved to the refreshment table for punch.

Iden arrived a few moments after. Hazel eyes met blue squarely, but he addressed Alan when he spoke. "Can I steal the lady for the next dance?"

"I knew wouldn't get to keep you for long," the squire said, gracefully relinquishing her to the knight and kissing her hand as he left.

With a parting smile for Alan, Laurel then looked up at Iden's hazel eyes sternly and then cautiously as she saw something hard in them. She had only the night before sworn to avoid him, and here she was about to have his hand in hers and his arm around her waist. Blue eyes narrowed as she said, "You told me that you didn't dance."

Iden did not refute the claim, but he also did not whisk her off to the dance floor. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked flatly.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," she retorted almost angrily. Yet, she knew _exactly_ what he was talking about, and it was definitely Amelie who told him about it. Irritation bubbled in her veins as she thought, _That girl is too sweet to keep her mouth shut!_ She had been too quick to assume that Iden and Laurel had been romantically involved before and had probably thought that he should know.

His jaw tightened involuntarily. "The _engagement_, Laurel. Tell, me did you find out before or after I made a fool of myself? Did you not have the decency to tell me you were already promised to another man?" he hissed.

"It was after all that, Iden. I only found out yesterday," she replied quietly. _And it is not finalized yet_, she added in her mind.

"I just thought that you and I were doing something, Laurel," he impulsively took her hand in both of his. "Together." He brushed his lips across her knuckles and let them linger there.

She pulled her hand out of his grip gently. He was making too much of an emotional display, more than their little friendship could possibly inspire. "I'm sorry if I was leading you on…"

Iden cut her off. "No, you weren't. That's the problem. You're always so calm, so rational about it all… And how can you just bow to the wishes of your parents? They haven't seen you in years—they don't even know you anymore, if they ever did in the first place! How can they pick a husband for you?"

Sharply, she retorted, "I trust my parents' judgment. Their life together didn't turn out half bad. Who else is more qualified?" Laurel felt her cheeks flushing from his attacks, but she kept her voice steady.

Grabbing her shoulder in exasperation, the knight said incredulously, "Do you think your opinion is that unimportant? Where is your _passion_? Why don't you fight them? You know you don't love this man—you've never seen him, I bet. You are going to give up your chance for love this easily?"

"Love?" she repeated in disbelief. Marriage was not always about love, and a young knight should know enough about the world to realize this fact. "And who exactly do I love, Iden? Not all of us have warrior blood running through us that makes us believe such foolish things. I was raised to do this one thing, Iden—I have spent my entire life preparing for the day when I would be given to a man to be his wife. That day is here, and I am ready."

Fumbling for words, he blurted out an accusation. "You don't want this anymore than I do!"

"It does not concern you," she said coolly. "Why are you getting so worked up? This is not about what you or I want—"

"Then, you admit you want something," he pointed out eagerly.

Ignoring his comment, the lady continued, "You are still too young for marriage. When yours is arranged, you will understand what your duty is."

"You are four years younger than me, Laurel," he retorted angrily, his visage darkening with each word she spoke.

"This is the way of the world," she stated simply. There was no use in trying to convince him anymore. Her betrothal would happen, regardless of Sir Iden's thoughts on the matter.

"That's it? You don't care about any of the time we've spent together? You don't want to fight for any of it?"

The girl sighed. "I think you should know that I am not a fighter. Thank you for being a _friend_ to me," she said quietly. It was obviously a dismissal.

Iden stood there a pace away from her, gazing down into her eyes with a sad but smoldering look. "You're cold, Laurel."

Blue eyes widened at the claim and met hard hazel ones, but before she could reply, Squire Alan interrupted with a flourished bow.

"The Duchess sent me to find you, milady. She requests a performance." He was grinning, oblivious to the tense conversation he had just walked into.

Laurel remained frozen by Iden's harsh words, so much so that she barely registered Alan's presence. It was the angry knight who responded first, his hazel eyes burning with fury as he stared the lady down.

"Enjoy her while you can, squire. She's a promised woman." With that, he stormed off into the crowd and farther.

The blue-eyed girl took a deep breath and put a small smile on her face to address a befuddled Alan. She decided to ignore Iden's rude behavior for the moment. "Pardon the knight, Squire Alan, he is upset. Now, I would be delighted to oblige the Duchess. Show the way."

Laurel took his arm, and he led her around the edge of the dance floor to the far side of the room where the musicians had sat. Their chairs were empty; presumably they had been given a brief respite and the girl had been called to entertain the crowd in their stead.

The Duchess herself was waiting there and called the attention of the crowd. Laurel was introduced to applause and she smiled. She started a simple song.

As she sang, she found the faces of her palace friends in the crowd. In small groups, they all seemed to be whispering to each other; she imagined that they were discussing her fresh engagement. She avoided the glare of Iden that came from the back of the room. Laurel felt more self-conscious than she ever had in her life—here and now she was the center of attention both for her performance and for her personal life.

When she had finished and the applause had died down, the girl decided that it was time to leave. She did not feel comfortable answering the questions of her friends or being under the judging gaze of Iden.

Trying to sneak though the crowd that had resumed its conversations and dancing, Laurel was caught half-way to the door by Merric with Amelie on his arm. The rest of the group sans Iden was gathered a few paces behind him.

"We must know, Lady Laurel. Who is the lucky man?" the knight asked. The blue-eyed girl noticed that Amelie had the sense to look ashamed.

Blushing, Laurel replied, "Sir Jedrek of Gethin. I must go—good night everyone." She walked quickly out of the room then. So quickly that she did not see the looks her palace friends exchanged over this fresh revelation.

* * *

She did not want to seem paranoid, but when Laurel was around her court friends all the next week, they seemed to be holding something back. Every look and gesture was loaded with some hidden information that no one could bear to speak aloud. In the next few weeks, they became even more distant, even Iden. After their great argument at the party, he had stopped showing up in her life. Laurel had finally realized that he had been actively seeking her before; their paths would have never just happened to cross as often as they went about their daily lives unless he had been planning it.

There was one exception—Lady Knight Kel. She seemed to find Laurel more than humanly possible. She was always on the way to or from the practice courts, and she always had a ready invitation to join. The blue-eyed girl could spot her motives easily: the lady knight still wanted to teach her to fight.

One such encounter took a slightly nasty turn. Laurel was fumbling with the key to her own room when Kel showed up. This time her invitation was not so subtle.

Firmly, but rather uncomfortably, Kel insisted, "You need to know these things, Lady Laurel. It's every woman's responsibility to learn how to take care of herself."

The girl could not keep her blue eyes from flashing with annoyance. "I live in the King's palace. I am betrothed and soon I will be married. No one is going to bother me."

Kel's hand reached out to rest on her forearm, and Laurel looked down at it in surprise. "Your husband cannot always protect you," the knight said softly.

"I don't put myself in situations where I would be in danger in the first place," she responded exasperatedly. Finally, the key turned in the lock and the door fell open.

Delicately, Kel removed her hand and replied, "Sometimes it is the men one trusts most that do the worst. Lalasa, the greatest dressmaker of Tortall, she was beaten by her own father and brothers. I taught her what I want to teach you and now she holds her own self-defense classes in her shop."

Ignoring the implied threat of abuse, Laurel said, "I do not fight people. It runs counter to my nature. Good day, Lady Kel." She stepped into her room and shut the door behind herself.

* * *

Soon after the confrontation with Kel, Laurel set aside some time to visit Yuki. Maybe if she told her about the betrothal and the strange behavior of the others, the woman could shed some light on the matter.

The Yamani let her in with a warm greeting and pulled a pot of green tea off of the fire. The two ladies knelt on the cushions around a low table in the style of the Islands, and Yuki spoke first in Yamani. "_What brings you by, Hitomi_?"

Laurel had to reset her mind to speaking the other language. "_I just found out that I am betrothed_."

With a smooth nod of the head, the woman replied, "_Congratulations_." She lifted the teapot and poured it into finely painted, handle-less cups.

"_You knew already didn't you?_" Laurel accused as she accepted the cup. "_Who told you?_"

Yuki set down the teapot and met the girl's blue gaze. "_Kel mentioned it to Neal the day after the party, but only because she was concerned._"

Laurel sighed in frustration. "_And what is there to be concerned about? Ladies at court get married all the time, and often it is arranged by her parents. What is so different about me?_"

Yuki looked down into her tea for a moment before answering. "_Maybe we should visit Neal about this_. _He can tell you everything_."

Laurel took a sip of the tea and rose. "_Now if you please, Lady Yuki. I need to know_." The ladies walked the short way to the infirmary in comfortable silence. The blue-eyed girl was not truly angry with the woman or with any of her friends, just confused and annoyed that they would not let her in on the big secret. It was worse than having the convent girls gossip about you behind your back.

Neal was surprised to see the pair walk into the infirmary, and he hurried over from a patient's bedside. Yuki met him halfway and whispered something to him. The healer's green eyes met Laurel's quickly before he nodded. "We can borrow father's office. It's his day off." Laurel fell into step with the others as they entered the wood-paneled office for the chief healer of the palace.

The knight sat on the edge of the desk and motioned for the ladies to sit in the chairs in front of him before he ran a hand nervously through his hair. Laurel preferred to stand.

"I'm tired of this mystery. Kel, Yuki, you, the others—why all this fuss over me?" she asked.

Meeting her questioning gaze, Neal began, "Us knights sort of know your intended. Well, more his reputation…" The green-eyed knight waved his hands as if searching for the most delicate way of expressing his thought.

"Please just say it, Neal. I can take it," the girl pleaded.

Neal exchanged looks with Yuki, and the Yamani took up his cause from her perch on one of the leather backed chairs. "From what I understand, he has been accused of being rough with some women in his past, and we are concerned about what could happen to you." Her Yamani accented Common was beautiful, despite the condemning words it spoke.

"You're saying that my future husband hurts women?" she asked, looking between the two. "I don't believe this…" _Yet there had been other warnings_, Laurel remembered. _But my parents wouldn't do that to me. They would figure out what was best for everyone._

Neal's expression and voice softened. "It's hard to hear, I know. He's always been somewhat unstable. I can send a letter to your parents about this; they should know before committing to anything."

"It's not that," Laurel began, shaking her head, but a healer popped in and interrupted.

"The Count is asking for Laurel," she told them tiredly.

Neal's brow furrowed as he stood, annoyed at the interruption. "How did he know she was here?"

The healer looked taken aback at the reaction of her usually easygoing boss. "I had to do the last treatment, and to get him to stop yelling at me I told him she had just walked in."

He waved a hand of dismissal. "Well, go un-tell him then! We're busy."

The healer looked cowed, and Laurel put herself in between them; this did concern her after all. "No, Neal, I should go see him. It's been too long." With a lower pitched voice she told him pointedly, "He is my intended grandfather-in-law for godsakes."

She strode out of the office and down the hall to Count Nelson's curtained off bed. The girl smiled to the dozing old man, taking a seat beside him and reaching for his hand. His eyes fluttered open and he spoke. "Laurel, my dear, I'm happy that you came today." His voice was noticeably weaker and his face paler than the last time she saw him. "My son visited earlier this morning to tell me the good news—your betrothal to my grandson Jedrek has been finalized. It makes an old man glad to know his grandson will be united with the kindest young lady in all of Tortall."

"That is a high compliment, milord. I hardly think I'm worthy of such praise," the blue-eyed girl replied softly.

"But you are!" he protested in his rough voice. "This marriage is the last wish of a dying man—a chance to see two young people happily settled and to know my great-grandchildren will be sung to sleep every night by an angel."

That was it. Laurel could not deny this poor old man his dying wish. She squeezed his hand gently. "Of course. And I am doubly happy to see you happy. Shall I sing for you?" she offered.

He nodded, and she sang him to sleep with a little healing magic. It took less than a minute for him to fall into a peaceful slumber.

Neal appeared at the curtain as soon as the last note of the song faded away. "Laurel, if we could continue our conversation," he whispered urgently.

She stood and turned to face him with resolve written in her posture. "No. I have to do this. Maybe Jedrek has changed. Maybe you heard rumors that aren't even true." Looking down at the Count, the girl could not imagine that he would do anything bad to her. He seemed to think well of his grandson. People had been wrong about him being a mean, bitter man, so maybe they were wrong about his grandson too.


	10. The Wedding

_Author's Note_: I'm gone until April, so enjoy this for now. Thanks to Madame Star, Merkaba7734, kittykat, and oirishgoddess for reviewing chapter 9!

**The Wedding**

Laurel found Iden skulking around the library where they had once spent many happy moments. Since she had not seen him in the two weeks since their argument, she was rather surprised at his presence.

His gaze was cold as he looked at her, and the girl felt offended by the implied disdain buried in his hazel eyes. The corners of her mouth twitched into a frown as he addressed her.

"I think you should let Kel teach you some things. She's good—she taught me some staff work when I was a first-year page." The knight looked at his feet.

"Now you work for her?" she inquired with a forceful strength the lady did not know she possessed.

Iden's eyes snapped back to her face. "I don't 'work' for anyone here. We know your _betrothed_—" He spit the word out like a curse. "—and we think you should be able to take care of yourself. All of us. We were your friends, if you remember." A flicker of pain coursed across his face before being replaced with hostility once more.

"'_Were_ my friends' is right!" she choked out. "I'm tired of all of your cryptic comments and you all avoiding me like the plague. And I don't want to speak to you—any of you—if you insist on insulting me and my family! Why are you all telling me rumors about my husband-to-be? No—it doesn't even matter what you think. I _am_ going to do what is right because that is what I do!"

Iden, boiling as she made her speech, broke in with an unchecked roar, "And are you going to do what is right by _you_ or what is right by your parents?"

Spinning on her heel, Laurel sighed in frustration and left the little library. She, in her frenzied mind, vowed never to return.

* * *

Two days later, the blue-eyed girl woke early. The view from her small window was a light grey mist that had rolled in overnight. She pulled a dressing gown over her nightshirt and strode across the room, bare feet on cold stone. Mitsuko had moved out the day before, and the girl was already uncomfortable having the large chamber to herself. Even at the convent she had always had a roommate; now the empty side of the room seemed to echo the slightest whisper and she felt lonelier than she ever had in her life.

Laurel grabbed a poker from the rack at the side of the fireplace and stirred up the embers left there. She reached down and put a small log on the coals and then retreated to pull an armchair closer to the warm glow. The girl curled up, tucking her bare feet into her robe, and stared into the flickering lights as the dry wood caught flame.

A servant knocking at the door startled her from her daze. The sky outside seemed a bit lighter, but still grey; she guessed that she had been sitting still for an hour or two, enough time to miss breakfast. Laurel rose from her chair to answer. The liveried boy handed her a card and left with a quick bow. The girl shut the cold draft of the empty hall out and unfolded the note. Her blue eyes scanned the formulaic phrases of a summons. Her father had arrived and wished her to come to him in an hour. A servant would be sent to pick her up.

Laurel took a deep breath and held it a moment. When she released it, she was ready to face the day.

At the appointed hour, the young lady was ready for her father's manservant to lead the way. He took her to a part of the palace that she had not seen before, administrative offices mostly. At a door he bowed and opened it for Laurel to enter. "Thank you," she whispered shakily before turning her attentions to what lay inside.

She saw first the long table directly ahead of her with neat stacks of papers on it. Ornate iron candelabra were set at even intervals around the edges of the room, and a series of tapestries featuring some generic story of courtly love decorated the wood paneled walls. The blue-eyed girl took a few steps in and then turned her gaze to the right where a group of four men stood in conversation. The sound of the door clicking shut behind her drew the men's attention to the girl in the royal blue velvet gown.

"Laurel, you've grown," said the deep voice of her father. She had not heard it in years.

The girl immediately curtsied deeply, remembering her manners. "Father, I am so pleased to see you. I hope your journey was pleasant enough."

"You know travel doesn't bother me, my girl," he replied with a suspiciously warm tone. Laurel met his eyes, a shade darker than hers. They both knew that she knew nothing of the sort about him, but it was necessary to keep up family pretenses in front of strangers.

"Come forward, Lady Laurel," said the eldest man of the bunch. His disheveled white hair, spectacles, and ink-stained hands made him every inch the typical bureaucrat. The girl obliged him with downcast eyes; she had yet to learn what this assembly was about.

A gruff voice sounded out next as she drew closer and stopped a few paces from the group. "A pretty thing she is, no question about that." The voice sounded familiar but somewhat stronger. Laurel's eyes rose and saw the pinned sleeve where an arm should have been. It was Greer of Gethin—the Count's son and her future father-in-law. "Now that I've seen her, I'll sign your papers, clerk."

The girl tried not to stare at the three men who turned their attention to the parchments on the table. She saw signatures being written and sealing wax being dripped on and pressed with family rings. So this was her betrothal contract being signed. Now that Sir Greer had seen her for that brief moment, it was done. Laurel had never known that betrothals were so… _Cold_ was the word she thought of first.

The fourth man stared at her all this time. She finally met his gaze with a question in her eyes. "Do you not remember me?" he asked with a half-grin as his eyes scanned her face. He was tall and rather thin with blue-green eyes and short-cropped dark hair. There was something familiar about the shape of his face.

"Ethan," he reminded her. "And you stopped writing me once you got to the palace—too good for your favorite brother now that you're a proper lady?" he asked with humor in his tone.

"Ethan," she repeated breathlessly. She had not seen him in nearly seven years, when they both left home for the convent and the university, and it was true that they had stopped corresponding in the past few months. Laurel was surprised but relieved to see him there. He of all people would certainly understand why she had to marry Jedrek. That was just how they had been brought up; she would have at least one supporter now.

Before she could reply their father stepped between them with the roll of parchment in his hand. "Sir Greer and I are going to make the announcement to the king now that the legal documents have been taken care of. Your mother was ill again and could not travel, so I will arrange the wedding soon. I want to be back in Fury's Valley as soon as possible after Midwinter."

As her father left, Sir Greer studied her for a moment before following. She curtsied for him as he walked past. The siblings were left in the room with the clerk who was back to shuffling papers. Ethan offered her his arm, and she took it without hesitation as they left together.

"Now tell me what occupies a young lady at court," he drawled placing his free hand over hers tucked into the crook of her arm. He looked down at her with a warm smile on his face, and Laurel felt very comfortable. She wondered if he was using his healing magic to soothe her frazzled nerves.

As they paced slowly down the corridor, she replied, "First, tell me why father brought you for my wedding. I wasn't expecting family to come at all."

He sighed and looked forward again. "Mother has sent me to the palace find a bride of my own, and I suppose your great marriage has something to do with the timing. Who would have guessed that sweet Laurel had the makings of a social climber in her? Nursing a rich, old Count for his grandson—the convent taught you all the tricks." His sea-colored eyes flicked down to her face to see her reaction.

"Don't give me that much credit; it was all a coincidence, really," she countered. "I only worked in the infirmary because Neal invited me, and then I took pity on a suffering, old man that just wanted someone to sit with him for a few minutes. Everyone deserves that."

"Neal?" Ethan asked with more than a hint of suspicion in his voice. "Who's he?"

"Sir Nealean of Queenscove, a healer and the son of the Chief Healer here, and his wife Yuki have been very kind to me here," she explained evenly. "Why don't I take you to meet them?"

The siblings exchanged stories to cover the last few months during which they had not corresponded as Laurel led them down familiar passages to Neal and Yuki's suite. Upon their arrival, she knocked and the knight-healer himself answered.

"Lady Laurel," he said civilly. "It's been a few days—how are you?" His green eyes looked at her curiously, but she ignored them.

"Neal, I would like you to meet my brother Ethan whom I told you about. He just came to court today with my father…"

With introductions made, they were invited in. "Yuki and the girls are out, I'm afraid, but I will put some tea on for us," Neal said.

The lady intervened and took the kettle from his hand, "I can make the tea. Please, sit down."

Neal obeyed and set about chatting with the newcomer. "We went to the University together, I remember, I was a year behind you…" The men named names and talked about the people they knew in common. By the time the tea was ready, Ethan had been invited to work in the infirmary as well.

"Are you planning to stay for long?" the green-eyed man asked.

"I don't know," replied Ethan. "I plan on finding a wife after Laurel here gets married, but who knows how long that will take. Perhaps you haven't heard yet, but she is to wed Sir Jedrek of Gethin in a few weeks' time when he gets in from the border."

"Yes, I did hear," Neal answered with restraint. He looked to the girl as he continued. "That's the problem with court life, you know. Everyone knows everyone's business."

* * *

Time flew by quickly as plans were hastily thrown together for the wedding. Two weeks after the Lord of Fury's Valley arrived was the day of the last feast of Midwinter. The wedding was to take place in the grand ballroom just before the ball began. In this time, Laurel had sometimes feared that Iden or his group would do something drastic, but still no great attempts at sabotage had occurred. She instead spent most of her time showing Ethan around the palace and sitting with him by the fireplace in her room as they reconnected after seven years of only letters between them.

With a few alterations, her cream and silver dress from Lalasa's shop was perfect for the ceremony. On Midwinter's day, her father had sent a maid to help her get ready, and so she spent the morning soaking in a hot, rose-scented bath and having fragrant oils rubbed into her skin. She picked at a light lunch in her dressing gown as the maid curled her hair and pinned half of it up on her head. A comb with blue crystals that had been Ethan's Midwinter gift to her was tucked in to one side. As the afternoon went on, Laurel had her corset tightened and the gown slid on over her head. She did her own face paint, taking her time until Ethan arrived to pick her up.

Her mind felt disconnected from her body throughout the entire process. Laurel followed the gentle prodding of the maid as they moved from each activity to the next, but for the most part, her mind was a blank. She was already resolved to the evening's event, so there was nothing else to think about. Her mind was instead set on the little steps she was taking towards her wedding.

The maid let her brother in at the appointed time—everything was going so smoothly—and the girl sprayed on her favorite jasmine perfume before making her way to the door. Ethan took her arm as the maid closed the door behind them. She would be responsible for packing the girl's things so that they could be moved to the new suite that she would share with her husband. Laurel would never walk into that room again.

The siblings found their way to the antechamber on one side of the ballroom. Peeking through the doors, they saw that a decent crowd of nobles mingling in the hall, already dressed for the festivities later that evening they had come early to witness the first marriage of the freshest group of convent girls—a young, talented singer and healer matched to an honorable military family's knighted son. It was the sort of thing that ambitious matchmakers dreamed about. The king and queen were even honoring the ceremony by watching from their thrones on the dais to the left. Looking around, Laurel saw the familiar faces of some of her convent year mates in the hall as well.

She sucked in a quick breath as she allowed herself to look to the far end of the red carpeted aisle. There a knight stood in a dress tunic, Sir Jedrek of Gethin. He had come in from the border two days before, but their fathers had decided on the old custom of keeping them apart until the wedding. He was of average height with wide shoulders and the muscular build of a working knight. From the distance she could only tell that he had a thin, clean-shaven face with a strong chin and wavy black hair tied back in a short queue.

Ethan tapped the girl's shoulder and she pulled back from her spying. Laurel turned to her newly arrived father and curtsied; he bowed his head in return, his eyes examining her appearance. He must have been satisfied because he motioned for her to take his arm for the walk down the aisle.

With a grin, Ethan said, "Good luck, Laurel." He slipped out through the crack in the door to join the waiting crowd. The two remaining nobles of Fury's Valley stood in wait by the door. The girl swallowed hard.

Her father, without looking down, told her, "I don't think that I've yet acknowledged your good work in the convent and here at the palace. Remember to uphold the dignity of the name Fury's Valley, even if you're a Gethin." Laurel did not know how to respond to that, so she remained silent.

The music struck up in the ballroom, so the girl sucked in another breath as the double doors opened to the inside. Her father stepped with the beat, and she had to concentrate just to keep even with his stride. She felt self-conscious as everyone stared at her with smiles on their faces. She saw Amelie and Merric on one side, and the petite lady gave a small but excited wave. Laurel responded with a faint smile.

She was not sure if she was breathing when she reached the end. Jedrek had watched her approach, his eyes exploring her the entire time. Laurel did the same right back. She noted that his ruby tunic with gold trim flattered his eyes which were a medium shade of brown with golden flecks glowing in them. As her father stopped and she looked up into these new eyes, the only thought she had was, _That's the color of Gethin, but_ _I don't look good in red_.

Laurel felt dizzy as the ceremony proceeded. A Mithran priest stood before them and gave a long prayer as they both looked forward. He lifted their hands and placed hers in Jedrek's. It was warm and dry, and he gently wrapped his fingers around her hand. The priest had Jedrek recite his vows and then called on her to do the same. She had rehearsed the words often over the last few days, and they came out without a thought.

After another blessing, the priest raised his hands in the air and proclaimed them wedded in the sight of the gods and the assembled. Jedrek turned to face her, and the girl rotated slowly to meet him with a slightly apprehensive stare. Still holding her hand, he slowly leaned in and pressed his warm lips to hers, holding them there for a long moment.

_A forefinger moved to the space between her eyebrows and traced its way down the side of her nose, over the bumps of her lips and chin, tracing the scar that she had revealed to him there. Then, Iden slowly leaned down, bringing his lips toward hers._

_At the last moment, Laurel turned her head to the side, and his lips, unconcerned with the change of destination, touched her cheek. He did not pull away in defeat; instead, he planted a line of kisses along her cheekbone. The girl was the one to break their contact with a sigh._

"_No, Iden, I don't think we should…" she trailed off with her eyes closed in disbelief…_

_His hands came back up to stroke her wavy, warm brown hair and cup her cheek. "Then don't think about it, Laurel," he told her huskily with bluish-green eyes boring into her. "Just _do_ for once."_

It was over then. Laurel had had her first real kiss, and now she was married to Sir Jedrek of Gethin. She was now Lady Laurel of Gethin.

The crowd of nobles was all smiles and cheers. Still feeling woozy, she allowed her new husband to lead her through the crowds of well-wishers to the dais of the monarchs. King Jonathon and Queen Thayet both stood as the couple, still holding hands, bowed and curtsied to them in sync. When Laurel met Thayet's gaze, the woman looked radiant as always. "Congratulations"—the queen's mouth moved to form the word, but Laurel could not hear anything over the buzzing mob of the ballroom.

They moved off to the side where Jedrek finally released the girl's hand. Some knights and soldiers came up to shake his hand and kiss Laurel's cheek. She still felt stuck in a trance with a smile plastered on her face as she thanked everyone who came up, hardly registering names as they walked right by.

It was odd that the pair had not even had a conversation, yet she was tied to him for life. The people who walked up to them probably knew Jedrek better than she did. Abruptly, the stream of people stopped and brown-with-gold eyes were looking down into hers. Laurel blinked. "Would you like to dance?" her husband asked.

"Of course," she replied quickly. The partygoers moved out of their way as the pair made their way to the already filling dance floor. Jedrek's hand on her back guided her to the center of the swirling couples, and he took up her hand again with his other arm wrapping around her waist. This was the most they had ever touched.

Laurel was shaking the daze off now that her body was doing something familiar. Her blue eyes locked with Jedrek's brown, and the corner of his mouth tugged as if he wanted to smile. Or smirk. "Was your trip down to Corus easy?" she asked to break the ice. She had no idea what they would have in common.

"It actually takes twice as long when the snows are piled this high," he told her. Laurel felt like an idiot for asking the question. Of course it was not easy to ride from the northern border in the snow! Her face reddened a bit.

"Have you enjoyed your life at the palace?" he asked in turn.

"It's a very busy place, but yes, I do like it here," the girl told him, feeling that he was starting to warm to her. He was not so strange, her husband. He was only a knight, a man.

The music wound down as the dance finished. The couple paused to applaud the musicians. As a new melody began, Jedrek said, "Perhaps things will settle down for both of us now." Laurel smiled in what she hoped was a sincere way.

This dance was quicker and less conducive to talking as partners were swapped in a circle. Even when they were parted, she felt Jedrek's eyes on her as she twirled in some knight or courtier's arms. In the end, they met again. Laurel was breathing a little heavily from the exertion. Her corset felt too tight, and she wanted a drink. She was about to suggest a break to Jedrek when he spoke first.

He lowered his lips to her ear to whisper a question. "Are you ready to turn in for the night?"

Laurel's pulse rose a little more as nerves overtook her. "Sure," she told him quietly, breathlessly. Jedrek drew back, an inviting smile on his face. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her through the mass of nobles to one of the side doors.

More than one person watched them walk out together. Some knowing smiles and even semi-lewd calls went after them. Laurel's face reddened, and she looked down in shame. Immediately, she knew that she should not be ashamed; she was a newlywed after all and certain things were expected. That thought forced her to raise her chin, but her eyes quickly settled on a group of people she recognized. Yuki, Neal, Kel, Dom, Merric, Amelie, Owen with a sweet looking girl on his arm, and a tight-mouthed Iden stood in a knot near this particular door. As she passed on the arm of Jedrek, they raised their glasses in a silent wish of good luck as would be expected at a wedding—all except Iden, who put his cup to his lips and drained it.

After the couple left, Dom muttered half-heartedly, "We lost a great chance with that one, my friends." He took a long lamenting swig of his wine.

Iden placed his empty goblet on the table a little too hard. "You have no idea," he said cryptically.

Owen regarded his younger cousin with a worried glance. Yuki and Kel's eyes met, and they shared a worry of a different kind.


	11. Lifestyle Changes

_Author's Note_: I am back from Africa and thus able to continue writing this story. Thank you for your patience!

**Lifestyle Changes**

The morning after the wedding Laurel woke when she felt Jedrek climb out of bed. Her eyes opened and she sat up, watching him cross the room and disappear through the doorway to their privy. She pulled her knees to her chest under her nightshift and the blankets. The room was chilly since the fire had not been stroked yet. The girl drew a few deep breaths to relax herself. She felt a little sore from the night before, but she thought that Jedrek had been fairly gentle with her.

Interrupting her thoughts was the man himself returning to their bedchamber. As he caught sight of her, he asked "What was that smell you had on yesterday?" The knight began to dress himself for the day.

Laurel smiled. "It's a special perfume only made at a monastery on a small island in the inland sea. I bought some in the marketplace. It's mostly jasmine with other secret scents in it. Do you like it?"

Without looking at her, he replied, "Please, don't wear it again. It gives me a headache."

The girl was taken aback. "Oh, of course," she said quietly. Marriage was compromise, she had been told. If it gave him a headache, it was only reasonable to stop wearing it around him. Anything less would only be mean-spirited.

"I'll be back later," he said as he left, buckling his sword belt as he passed into their main room and then out their door. Laurel climbed out of bed and stepped quickly to her trunk against the far wall. She pulled a pair of slippers out and slid them on her feet. The outer door opened again and she turned, expecting to see Jedrek return for something. Instead, it was a servant come to stir up the fires.

Laurel smiled at the woman as she entered the bedroom and curtsied. "Milady," she said before going to the fireplace. She was probably the same age as Laurel.

The blue-eyed girl shook herself out of her reverie and slipped into the privy. Laurel did not feel like walking to the bathhouse, so she gave herself a quick wash with a cloth. When she returned to the bedroom, the maid was gone. The girl quickly got herself dressed, often glancing at the thin gold band on her finger. It seemed to catch her eye whenever she moved her hand.

After slipping into a warm velvet dress, she ran a brush through her hair. At some point in all of this, she had decided to visit Yuki, the only other married woman she knew. Laurel just had no idea what she was supposed to do now that she was a wife.

Neal answered the door and seemed startled to find her there. "Are you alright?" he asked sharply. Healer-trained eyes scrutinized her face.

"Yes, I just wanted to talk to Yuki," she told him. The blue-eyed girl did not like the way he was searching her for something.

"Let her in, Neal," came Yuki's voice from inside. "_Please come in, Hitomi_," was the gentler Yamani call to Laurel.

The knight let the girl pass. She replied to Yuki in Yamani, "_You're married, so I thought that maybe you could help me. I don't know what to do_."

The woman was leaning over a large bassinet in the corner of the room. "Neal was just leaving for the infirmary," she hinted to her husband with a significant glance. The green-eyed man made his excuses and left quickly. "_Now, what is on your mind, Hitomi_?"

Words cam tumbling out of the girl. "_I just don't know what to do with him, Jedrek. He's a complete stranger, but I live with him, share his bed… I don't know how to talk to him, what to say. He doesn't say much to me. You were so lucky to know Neal beforehand. I was told to get married, but I wasn't told what to do after the wedding was over!_"

The Yamani gestured to the cushions around the low table, and they both sat. "_Why don't you ask him to go to the city with you to spend an afternoon walking, shopping. Go to a bookstore—you can talk about that_."

"_But what if he doesn't like my books. I don't want him to think that I'm a silly girl. I want him to think that I'm interesting_."

Yuki paused and considered the newlywed's words seriously. "_You have to be yourself. You're married now, and you cannot try to pretend to be someone else for the rest of your life. Honesty would be the best course_."

The women spent a few hours together with lunch delivered to the room. At the close of the visit, Yuki told her, "Don't ever keep yourself from visiting me. I'm always here."

Laurel left with a new sense of purpose. She just had to get to know Jedrek. Then things would be fine. She returned to her rooms feeling relieved and ready to talk to Jedrek again. She unlocked the door, but it swung open before she could turn the knob. "Where were you?" Jedrek asked more forcefully than necessary.

The girl stepped around him carefully, as his body filled most of the doorframe. "I was visiting Yuki for tea, and we ended up eating lunch together."

He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes seriously. "Don't just leave like that, I was worried—I won't have my wife wandering the palace unescorted."

Laurel tried to reassure him; she supposed that it would be nerve-wracking for your new spouse to go off without a word. "It's the royal palace, Jedrek. It's perfectly safe. I've been here for weeks, and I've never been nervous by myself."

He shook his head slowly, his face coming down closer to hers. "I only say this because I was here for four years as a page: things happen in dark corners. Just ask me if you want to go somewhere, and I'll take you.

"If that will make you feel better, of course," she told him with a brave smile. She did not want to argue with him on their first day as a married couple. He would soon realize that he was being overprotective and relent, she was sure.

Jedrek smiled back. "Thank you, Laurel." He leaned down and kissed her swiftly a few times. She tried to match him, but she was still new at it. The girl still felt clumsy. She let him break it off after a few moments.

"How about we go for a walk in the city, you and me," she offered. "We can get some fresh air, stop by a bookshop, wander, and talk a little bit."

The knight rubbed her arm up and down as he shook his head. "Not today. I have things to do. Maybe later."

The girl gave him another warm smile. "Sure." She risked standing on her tiptoes to give him a quick peck before stepping away. Laurel grabbed her sewing basket off a table in the corner. She settled herself to a new project in a straight-backed chair by the fire, and Jedrek left with his sword on his hip a few minutes later.

* * *

Laurel settled into a rhythm as she tried to figure Jedrek out. He arranged for breakfast and a hot bath to be sent to their rooms each morning for when Laurel woke up. He would leave early to train in the morning and return with lunch around midday. The girl took long soaks in the tub to shake off the morning chill, and then passed a few quiet hours reading or sewing. They would eat lunch together with stilted conversations that mostly consisted of questions about growing up and their lives before they met. Jedrek liked to visit people in the afternoon and then pick her up at their rooms to go to an early dinner. Hardly anyone would be in the mess, so they would eat by themselves. At night, she would respond to Jedrek's advances, and he would fall asleep soon after so that he could be up in the morning. The girl would lie awake for awhile until her mind wound down enough to sleep.

One morning, Laurel made sure to wake early when he did. "Can you take me to the infirmary this morning?" she asked as he climbed out of bed.

He turned to her sharply with a look of concern on his face. "Are you ill?"

"Oh, no," she assured him. "I just wanted to help out the healers. I used to before you—"

"No," he said sternly. "I won't have you catching something and bringing it home to me for us both to be ill. The infirmary is no place for a lady." He got up and pulled a pair of breeches out of his dresser drawer.

Laurel was inclined to argue this time. She was getting bored shut up in their rooms all day. "But it's perfectly safe, Jedrek. I was always there in the fall. Sir Neal would never let me go near anything contagious. And I like to help people."

"Absolutely not. You should be here, not with sick people. I worry about you, Laurel. You're my wife and I want to keep you safe." He pulled an everyday tunic over his head.

"The Count will be wanting to see me…" she tried in desperation. How would she convince him?

"My grandfather would respect my wishes," he told her rather harshly. She saw that he was running out of patience as he made eye contact with her. "He would know how important your health is right now."

Laurel swallowed hard at the insinuation. He was waiting for her to get pregnant, the same as her family and his probably were. "You're right. I'll see you this afternoon." The girl pulled the blankets back over her and closed her eyes. She slept for a few more hours that morning since there was no pressing need to do anything else.

The old Count died the next day. Jedrek got a note as they were leaving the mess hall, delivered by a page. That night he was a little rough with her.

After he left for his morning training the next day, Laurel inspected herself in her vanity mirror. Discolorations that would soon turn black and blue spotted her upper arms were he had held her pressed against a wall. She used her small healing Gift to hide these spots. Jedrek had been upset, maybe lost his mind a little. That was perfectly understandable. It was a part of grief.

He was sullen for the next few weeks. Laurel tried to be understanding and let him have his space. One day, as he arrived with lunch, she met him with a kiss to the cheek and a smile. "It's my birthday," she told him.

He looked at her bemusedly. "And you're how old now?"

"Seventeen." She grinned.

Jedrek looked away and set the tray of food on their small table. "You already looked older."

Laurel was stunned. Why was he being so cruel? On an impulse, she stormed into their bedroom and slammed the door. The girl crawled into bed and hugged a pillow. Her throat tightened with frustration and anger. She was tired of him constantly being contrary.

She laid there for she did not know how long. Then, a loud knock came from the outer door. Laurel sighed heavily and got up to answer it.

In the doorway was Ethan. "Happy birthday, little sister. How are you?" he said, offering a bouquet of flowers.

Laurel wanted to cry at the sight of him as she took the flowers. She had to turn away to compose herself. "I'm just fine, and these are beautiful." She set them in a vase on a side table and played with the arrangement until they lay just right.

From behind her, her brother spoke. "The flowers are from the greenhouse here at the palace. I met a lady who likes to work with the plants there…" He cleared his throat a few times. "I haven't seen you around. Neal tells me you were always helping at the infirmary before I arrived."

Laurel turned to face him. "I am adapting to this new life, getting to know my husband. He ran out to train for a few hours. It's the life of a knight's wife…" She gave a weak chuckle to press her point.

Ethan was watching her carefully. "Neal said his wife would like to come by. She hasn't seen you in a few weeks."

She smiled wider at him. "Of course, tell her anytime. I owe her some tea."

* * *

After a particularly rough night with Jedrek, Yuki came for a mid-morning visit. Laurel stood halfway behind the door and shooed her away feigning ill health. In reality, she knew what would happen if the woman saw her forming black eye or if her angry husband came home to find a strange guest around.

It was becoming apparent that Jedrek was unstable. With great despair, she knew that that was exactly what everyone had tried to warn her about.

Life became a monotonous routine. All meals were taken in their rooms as per Jedrek's arrangements: breakfast and lunch alone and dinner with her husband. She passed the daytime turning away the occasional social call, reading, and sewing—making baby clothes for the inevitability. At night, she dealt with what happened when it did.

It was in the early spring that the routine changed.

The couple received a personally delivered invitation to Prince Roald's birthday ball, which essentially meant that it was mandatory for the two. Two weeks before the ball, Laurel ordered a new gown from Lalasa by messenger, sending plenty of money and the new measurements that she had done herself since her husband would never let her go down to the city. And she would not want the seamstress to discover the bruise on her ribs that was too big for her small gift to fully heal anyway.

A week before the ball, she decided to save up her gift until the day of so she could at least heal anything visible.

Two days before the ball, she began throwing up her breakfast and knew that she must be with child. It was hardly a surprise. Going from her parents' home to the convent to a quick marriage never gave her the opportunity let alone the need for a pregnancy charm. She had never touched one in her entire life. But the big ball coming so soon—and the dread of Jedrek that ruled her life—gave her no spare moment to reflect on any of that. She made herself dome herbal tea and settled down to her usual morning sewing, working a little bit quicker than before.

The party for Prince Roald was the first real outing in the three months of her marriage. She was in a lovely blue-green confection that Lalasa's shop had sent, but the girl had left her hair mostly loose and straight and put on only a little face paint since Jedrek had told her that he did not like a lot. He had them arrive late and danced once with her before going over to get drinks.

Laurel sat herself in one of the chairs along the wall and watched him, checking for signs of coming anger as she constantly did. To her surprise, she saw her old friends Dom and Merric approaching him, talking to him, and drawing him across the room. Her eyes followed the unusual threesome. They slipped into the side room where Prince Roald was known to have small get-togethers during these grand balls. Was he being summoned for something?

Lost in curiosity, she hardly noticed Yuki walk up, flanked by Neal and Kel. She stood immediately to curtsey to them. "Good evening, ladies, Sir Neal." It had been so long since she had conversed intimately with any of them that she defaulted to formality.

Looking between the three, the girl saw only worry on their faces. Yuki dared to speak first, "Lady Laurel, you have been truly missed these past few months. I have been wanting to have tea with you. And I don't think I ever properly thanked you for the twins' Midwinter gifts."

"That was nothing, milady. Your gift of that beautiful Yamani fan was much more generous." A few weeks ago she had buried the _shushuken_ in the bottom of a trunk of gowns, not wanting Jedrek to know that she had a weapon.

Kel and Neal stepped in closer, blocking Laurel's view of the ball, and also blocking her from sight. It was then that she realized that her old friends had not been talking to her husband out of necessity, but rather to distract him.

Neal reached out a hand to touch her arm and Laurel flinched away, beginning to panic. What if he discovered the half-healed welts on her side, hidden from the eyes by fabric but easily found with magic?

"My wife told me you were ill when she last visited, but you never requested a healer from the infirmary. Are you better now, milady?" he asked insistently.

The blue-eyed girl nodded vigorously. "A small, passing cold—no cause for alarm. I'm fine now."

Kel stepped in now, looking rather reluctant. "Laurel, if you need to tell us anything, this is the time. Jedrek has always had a certain reputation when it came to women and the way he has been keeping you hidden away… we were concerned. You know you can trust us. A word from you and things can be taken care of."

With three pairs of eyes starting her down like a pitiful little girl, Laurel became angry. How dare they interfere in her business? This was her personal life, and they were making too many assumptions. She had things under control—she was learning how to be a good wife. What happened between her and Jedrek was their business alone.

"I'm just fine," she said, raising her chin defiantly. "My husband was just going to get me a drink, so I'd better find him before he worries." The girl pushed her way between Yuki and Neal, escaping her captors. For a moment, a cool hand clasped her forearm, and a shiver went through her body. Laurel shook it off with a strength she did not know she possessed. As she glided away quickly, she prayed that Neal's magic had not discovered anything in that second of contact.

She stormed over to the long beverage table with its fountains of wine and cider and other drinks. Jedrek was nowhere to be seen. Those two conspirators must have still been holding him hostage with the Prince.

Laurel was debating her next move when a man stepped in front of her. With a bow a familiar voice coolly asked, "A dance, Lady Laurel?"

As his head rose, Iden's hazel eyes locked with icy blue. "No," was her flat response. She remembered vividly his last invitation to 'dance.'

Instead of backing off, he grabbed her wrist firmly. "We'll be finished before your husband comes out," he muttered in a hard voice as he dragged her to the dance floor.

Laurel could struggle against him no more than against her husband. Iden placed one of her hands on his shoulder and took the other in his own, entwining his fingers with hers. His arm slipped firmly around her waist and he whisked her across the dance floor. It did not take him long to get to the point. "We know what he's doing to you, and we won't let it go on."

The girl replied petulantly, "I don't know what you're talking about. I am insulted by your slur against my husband." _And the father of my child_, she added silently.

His eyes bored down into hers, and Laurel briefly wondered how he could dance so smoothly at the same time he was confronting her. And he had always claimed to be such a bad dancer… "Neal saw what you're hiding. Gods, Laurel, you have two half-healed ribs! How can you put up with this? It's disgusting what he—"

So Neal had not found her bigger secret, the child, in his magic check. She cut in, "_Lady_ Laurel to you, _Sir_ Iden. I'd thank you to stay out of my business."

"One day he'll go too far and kill you, and it will be too late for us to do anything to help. If not to us, go to the Goddess' temple. I beg you." He seemed to see something over her shoulder, and he hurriedly dragged her off the dance floor. "If you don't, we _will_ do something. Please," were his last words to her before he disappeared into the crowd.

Jedrek reached her a moment later, looking suspicious. "We're you talking to someone?" he inquired.

"No, just watching the dancers. Did you speak to the prince?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"I want to go back to our rooms." His heated tone of voice suggested a coming episode. She submitted to his guiding hand.


	12. Iden's Song

_Author's Note:_ I heard this song and immediately thought of Iden watching Laurel walking off with Jedrek and what he would be thinking. This is "Fight Test" by The Flaming Lips.

**Iden's Song**

There was Lady Laurel. Beautiful to look at, to listen to, to talk with, to kiss… But she was now unattainable. Anything I ever felt for her I have to give up now. I must. She didn't respond to any of my words, to my outbursts, to my touch. I gave up because she told me to, and I decided to let her win. For the moment. Then maybe she would realize that she wanted _me._

_I thought I was smart_

_I thought I was right_

_I thought it better not to fight_

_I thought there was a virtue, in always being cool_

_So it came time to fight_

_I thought "I'll just step aside"_

_And that the time would prove you wrong_

_And that you would be the fool_

I knew that bastard that she was clinging to was up to no good. I didn't know him personally, but stories don't cling to people for no reason. He had a reputation as a wild card kind of fighter—he always managed to get the job done, but sometimes it was messy. I don't trust him. I don't trust him with her.

I don't know what to do about it.

_I don't know where the sunbeams end_

_And the starlight begins_

_It's all a mystery_

_Oh. To fight is to defend_

_If it's not now then tell me when_

_Would be the time_

_That you would stand up and be a man_

_For to lose I could accept_

_But to surrender I just wept_

_And regretted this moment_

_oh that_

_I was the fool_

I didn't know what to do. I gave up. She didn't choose him. I took myself out of the picture too quickly. I should have been more persistent. I should have used cool logic to turn that sensible girl's head, and then I should have used hot passion to capture her heart.

_I don't know where the sunbeams end_

_And the starlight begins_

_It's all a mystery_

_And I don't know how a man decides_

_What's right for his own life_

_It's all a mystery_

_'Cause I'm a man, not a boy_

_And there are things you can't avoid_

_You have to face them_

_When you're not prepared to face them_

I didn't have time to think it out. It happened so fast. I thought I had more time to win her to my side and then that letter came. Then my temper got in the way. I let my own pride keep me from saving her.

_If I could I would_

_But you're with him, now it'd do no good_

_I should've fought him_

_But instead I let him_

_I let him take it_

I gave up. I surrendered. I fed her to a wolf because I was sulking. I should have done what was best for her. Instead I nursed my own hurts.

We would both pay for it now.


	13. Passion

_Author's Note:_ Sorry for the wait! The rest should follow before September! This chapter is intense, so hang on tight...

**Passion**

Inside their suite, Jedrek closed and locked the door. Laurel retreated to her vanity to remove her jeweled necklace and rings and to take the pins from her hair. She could still hear as he poured himself a glass of brandy on the sideboard in the front room.

"They're sending me on border patrol," he said through the open doorway. Her back stiffened from her place on her stool—he never told her things like this, about his work as a knight. "I was the last sent down to Corus after the war, and now I'm to be the first sent back to look after some dirty, commoner soldiers?" he speculated aloud.

He downed the glass and poured another. The girl waited. Crossing into the bedroom, he held it up to the light of the fireplace and examined it. Laurel watched him move around behind her through her mirror but remained frozen in her seat. He continued, "And at the same time, Roald's favorites get to play in his pleasure palace…" He suddenly threw the full glass at the wall next to her vanity, and it shattered. Laurel's crystal blue eyes shut hard and she flinched at the collision, but she did not feel any of the shards hit her.

Jedrek's rough hands pulled at the cords on the back of her gown, and she let him unlace them without a struggle even though he was jerking her corset against her bruised ribs. A large hand wrapped around her upper arm to pull her to her feet. Laurel slid her arms quickly out of the gown's sleeves so that it could fall to a crumpled heap around her feet, leaving her in only a simple shift. She stepped out of her high-heeled shoes, knowing what he would want next. Jedrek yanked her across the room towards their bed, and her stockinged foot stepped on some of the broken glass. An uncontrollable yelp of pain escaped her throat.

Abruptly changing course, he slammed her back against the rough stone wall and wrapped a bruising grip around her delicate neck. "Don't you dare call out," he said, spitting on her face in anger. The girl tensed, but her gaze was transfixed on his face which was contorted into something positively evil, something she had never seen on any person before. His harsh, dark eyes considered her for a moment over his scowl. "Your old friends are among Roald's favorites. You're behind this aren't you, you little viper?" he accused. He took a step back solely for the purpose of gaining some space; his right arm swung across his body to backhand her against the cheek.

The girl staggered sideways as far as his grip would allow, her eyes pressing shut again. She tried to protest in a quiet voice, "I don't see them anymore. I stay here like you want me to. You always know where I am!"

"How can I trust you?" he roared. "I heard about you sneaking around with Vikison Lane before I got here. How can I know you don't do the same now?"

The blue-eyed girl blinked a few times to clear her watering eyes and tried to defend herself, her voice beginning to strain from desperation. "I did nothing with him! You're the only man I've known!" Laurel tried to control her shaking lower lip.

All of the sudden, he stopped. The knight dropped his grip on her and took a few steps back. "That's right," he whispered thickly, more to himself than to anyone else. "I was the first."

Laurel sank to the floor, immobile for the moment. Jedrek was more unhinged than usual tonight—Dom, Merric, and the Prince must have said something to him that made him angry at her. One arm snaked itself around her middle, an unconscious action. It was there to protect what was inside her. She closed her eyes. She did not want to see where he would strike his next blow.

But none came. After a few minutes of waiting with eyes squeezed shut, she lay down on her side and curled up with her knees to her chest. She felt the tiny pieces of glass still embedded in her feet, but she did not dare move to pick them out. The girl lay there waiting that night, but no sound of warning before a kick or slap ever came. At some point, she fell asleep.

When she woke at the first hint of light streaming through the windows, everything was quiet. So quiet that it seemed that something was about to happen or that something was _bound_ to happen to shatter the silence. Laurel sat up, her body protesting its recent beating as well as the soreness from a night on the floor. She did not see Jedrek anywhere. She stood slowly and tiptoed across the bedchamber to the main room. He was there, sitting in his favorite armchair.

Before she had time to run or hide or do anything, he stood. He took a few tentative steps forward, staring at her frozen form. Then, he came at her in a rage. She stumbled backwards into the wall and screamed. He was on her in an instant, his body pressed down on hers and one of his hands catching and holding both of hers over her head against a wall. "You trapped me!" he yelled inches from her face. "You tricked my grandfather into this marriage and then you killed him!"

"I wouldn't… can't… kill… anyone," she heaved out. His weight was crushing her lungs. She could hardly breathe.

The knight pulled her off of the wall and half-dragged her to the window in the main room. He yanked it open and grabbed her again. The girl instinctively pulled back from the cold outdoor air. "You're not going to torture me like this anymore!" he yelled. Jedrek was much too strong to be resisted; he pushed her head out the window. "You're going down there!" Laurel stared down wide-eyed into the little courtyard she had so often stared at and wished to visit. It was three or four stories down to a deadly stone landing.

As she stared into her death, Jedrek struggled to pick up her legs to toss her out the window head-first. The girl braced her arms against the window frame. "Stop!" she screamed. She started to panic and kick at him. Laurel had never dared to fight back, but now she realized that she had to do something to save the child. It was not just her life on the line now, and it is always easier to be brave when you have someone else for whom to be brave.

His hands were on her hips trying to shove her out. The girl twisted out of his grip and slid down to the floor safely inside the room. Jedrek roared and grabbed her arms to put her on her feet again. She gripped him tightly back and desperately forced her white gold sleeping magic into him, but it was not enough. Her resources were drained from the big healing she had done the day before for the ball.

With her dwindling stream of Gift, she shoved her own life force into him from where she found a pinpoint of bright light in her mind's eye. She had never seen it before but instinctively recognized it. Using all of her strength, she shoved the flickering light with bluish-white flames straight into his mind. There was no regret in her heart. He collapsed forward.

When he at last lay limp and still, Laurel pushed her husband's body off of her and retreated into the bedroom. She slumped on the stool at her vanity, looking at her face in the mirror. She did not look any different after fighting a man, after magically fighting her husband. Her hands did not shake. All she felt was calm and exhaustion. He was _never_ going to lay a hurting hand on her child, and that was all that mattered to her.

Dully, the girl wondered what she should do now. She had no idea how long he would sleep—probably days, if not weeks with such power involved. Should she run? Escape from her tormentor now that he was incapacitated? She did not know how to run and hide. She did not know where to go or what to do for food or shelter. What would happen to her child if she tried such a thing? In the convent, they do not teach ladies how to survive on their own.

The girl could not think of anything to do, so she just sat there, staring at herself in the mirror in a trance. Laurel felt cold, she realized, but she could not make herself stand for a robe to cover her shift. At some point she heard the palace servant enter the main room as usual to stir up the fire. When she heard quick retreating footsteps and the door opening and shutting loudly, she knew that the time for action was up. She was about to be discovered, yet she could not find the will to move.

Laurel was still sitting there when the palace guards came in with healers. Many noises filled the other room, noises she could hear through the cracked door. The voices were exclaiming over what had been done to Sir Jedrek of Gethin.

From her vanity mirror, she saw a guard open the door to the bedchamber, but she did not move. "There's a girl in here!" he called to the crowd on the other side of the wall. Yes, she was still a girl. _Why had a girl been given these burdens to deal with? _she wondered to herself.

Another guard entered the bedroom with the first and a female healer trailed behind. Recognizing the girl from her time spent in the infirmary, the woman rushed forward. "It's Lady Laurel in here, Neal!" she yelled back. Her glowing hands were on the girl in a flash of muddy-brown magic. It cooled the already chilled Laurel, and she shivered involuntarily. "It's bad," the female voice said, softer now.

Neal had come in. The blue-eyed girl did not see him, but she saw the flash of green magic that touched her eyelids and made her slip into sleep. Her last thought was that it was not as soothing as her sleeping magic…

* * *

Laurel woke up in a private room of the infirmary. Recognizing her surroundings, she immediately tried to use her healing to check herself, but it hit something invisible that made her head ache. Neal came in right away with another man behind him. "You're testing your shield," the strange mage accused.

"Sorry," she replied with a grimace. "I didn't know that I had one. It makes my head feel fuzzy." She moved to put a hand to her forehead and found that it was chained to the side of the bed. So was her other one. "What is this for?" she asked bewilderedly.

"I think that you can continue to hold the shield from the other room," Neal drawled meaningfully to the other man. "Give us some privacy so I can do my healer things, please." The mage gave her one more suspicious look and left, shutting the door behind him.

Neal's concerned, almost sad green eyes met hers, and she refused to look away. "A right mess you've gotten yourself into, Lady Laurel." His hand glowed green and he rested his fingertips on her side. "At least you've been still enough to let those ribs heal."

"Why am I tied down like this?" she demanded, now feeling confused.

The healer sighed and pulled his hand back. "You are charged with the magical attack of Jedrek. You did some strange work on him—even my father can't find a way to wake him up. Though I wouldn't mind if he didn't…" the last part was mumbled, and Laurel did not think that she was supposed to hear it.

"He was trying to kill me," she said quietly. "And my baby…" she added in a whisper.

"So you did know," he replied calmly. His hand reached out for her middle and green seeped out again. "All's well there… for now." He stopped to choose his words, not something that Neal did very often. "Why didn't you let us help you before? This has gone very far, Laurel. The whole court is in uproar and the rumors—" he paused, looking up trying to find the most delicate words possible. "The rumors are terrible. You had a lover. He had a lover, and you were jealous. They go on in all sorts of disgusting ways. No one knows about your bruises since you hid them so well. I'm just glad that I'm on prisoner guard duty so I don't have to hear any more."

"So I'm a prisoner," she said evenly. Her blue eyes had lost their cloudiness and were as crystal-sharp as the healer remembered them. She was beginning to grasp the situation.

Pointing to the closed door, Neal explained things to her in a lower voice. "There is a mage and two palace guards outside, and when you're in a better condition, you will be moved to the dungeons. But I think your recovery might take awhile… Complications can arise over the simplest things," he told her conspiratorially, waggling his long fingers. The knight stood from his perch on the bed. "Now that you're awake, I should send for your legal representation."

"Legal _what_?" Laurel gasped. Her head was starting to hurt again, and she could not use her own healing magic to fix it.

Neal regarded the young lady gravely. "There's to be a legal inquiry. And I think you'll want to speak to a lawyer about this."

* * *

Laurel was unchained from her bed and given a clean, if rather old dress to change into for her meeting with her lawyer. She sat up in her bed with pillows supporting her since her ribs were still tender. Just as she had settled in, a man in his early thirties entered the room by himself. With a head of fair curls framing a clean-shaven face and clear grey eyes, his body was the model of one who works behind a desk. Wearing the black velvet robes of an advocate, he carried a thick leather satchel on one shoulder. The man gave her a small bow from the foot of her bed and said, "I am Vasiliy of Raven's Cliff. What you must understand is that I am your best chance at clearing your name, so I need you to tell me _exactly _what happened. Honesty is key here, Lady Laurel. If he doesn't wake up, this could be construed as murder, you know."

"I understand that, sir," she replied weakly, feeling more like a child than ever. Only this young, somber lawyer could save her? How had her life come to this?

"Good." He rounded the bed to sit on the chair beside her. From his satchel came a wooden panel on which to write, an inkwell, two quills (he tested them both and selected the sharper one), and a leather-bound notebook which he opened to a blank page. The blue-eyed girl watched all of this in disbelief. This man was so calm about everything while she was beginning to feel anxiety taking a hold in her gut. He looked up at her expectantly.

Laurel swallowed hard and spoke up. "I wasn't trying to be brave or stand up for justice or anything. I was just scared of what he might do to me next. He said he was going to kill me. He was going to toss me out a window, and I had to act to save my child's life. It was fight or let both of us be killed."

Vasiliy made a few notes in his book. "Okay, self-defense, we can work with that. Now I've already talked to a few people so far. The Goddess's people can't help us directly—you didn't establish a record of what he was doing since you were healing the evidence yourself. Sir Nealean said he found bruises on you the night before the incident and will testify to that. We can possibly find some of the previous women who made complaints or the healers that treated them. Gethin paid some of them off, so it might be hard to get them to come forward." The girl's eyes widened at this list of people. Who knew that so much would have to happen to show the truth of what happened between her and Jedrek. Could she not just tell people herself? Would they not believe her?

"Now," Vasiliy said, leaning back in the chair to get comfortable, "tell me exactly what happened that night." As she spoke, he recorded her words in some form of shorthand writing in the notebook. The girl did her best to remember everything accurately, from the meeting of Jedrek and the knights at the ball to Neal putting her to sleep the next morning.

When she finished, the girl's mouth felt dry and her body drained. Vasiliy was nodding slowly as he flipped back through the pages they had filled. "Ultimately, we can say this was a crime of passion," the lawyer said. "You were caught up in a struggle, like one of the many before it, and you finally had to fight back against your abuser to save your and the child's lives. That will help your case."

_Passion? How ironic_, Laurel thought. That was what Iden had said she lacked, yet it had apparently driven her to nearly kill her husband.

* * *

Laurel was perusing a novel that had been left on her bedside table, some light courtly romance that the infirmary room's last occupant must have been reading, when one of her guards knocked and opened the door to her room. "An approved visitor," he said curtly when he popped his head in. Not knowing what to expect, the appearance of little Amelie in a pretty lavender dress made the young prisoner gasp.

Stepping in, the dark beauty smiled timidly. The door was locked behind her, and she finally said, "Laurel, are you all right here? It's terrible—!" Her hands flew to cover her mouth.

The blue-eyed girl waved her over. "Come here, Amelie. I am so pleased to see you! Sit here with me."

The lady crossed the room, perched in the chair next to the bed, and took Laurel's hand. "I am so glad you are well. When they found you and… and Jedrek, I feared the worst—we all did! Neal was furious when you were brought in and as you were sleeping and healing. And when he let it slip about the baby…" she trailed off.

"Let me assure you that both I and my child are just fine under the care of Neal; he is the kindest man I know. And I am humbled to know that you and the others were so concerned." Laurel squeezed her hand. "Thank you for thinking of me. You are a true friend."

At that, Amelie looked down. "This is a terrible time, but I've wanted to tell you since it happened, since it is partially thanks to you." Her warm brown eyes sparkled when she looked up. "I will marry Merric. He asked me the night of the party, and I accepted."

"A love match? Your parents agree?" the blue-eyed girl asked rather worriedly. Was it going to work out?

"They just want me to be happy. And I do love him." That much was evident on the girl's face.

Relief and joy flooded the prisoner's body. "Then, you will be happy, Amelie. Merric is a good man." Tentatively, Laurel asked, "And what else has happened since I've been… away?"

Amelie sat forward on the edge of the chair and began to chatter excitedly.

"Roxanna is marrying a Yamani knight!"


End file.
